


Stranger Trek

by ItsThatGuy



Series: Stranger Trek: The Complete Series [1]
Category: Star Trek, Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Explicit Language (sometimes), Gen, Multi, Slow Burn, Suggestive Themes (sometimes), highly episodic, max and luke are a bit better, mike and el are both the most oblivious people in the galaxy, so yeah it's a stranger things starfleet au, tags have been redone now that i actually have a handle on the fic, think mike wheeler grows up to be jean-luc picard and you basically have it, why? because i could
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2020-07-27 17:50:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 129,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20050105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsThatGuy/pseuds/ItsThatGuy
Summary: Space... the final frontier.Newly in command of the USS Hawkins, Captain Michael "Mike" Wheeler is eager to get out there and live every Starfleet cadet's dream.  Backing him up is a crack senior staff of old Academy friends... as well as one mysterious young woman with a handful of secrets up her sleeve.  Together, they seek out adventure and discovery--boldly going where no one has gone before!





	1. Maiden Voyage

Captain Michael Wheeler was widely considered one of Starfleet’s rising stars. He’d received top marks in the academy, and several commendations in the course of his service, not to mention a glowing recommendation from his time as a first officer. Now he’d been made a captain, and was on the verge of receiving his first starship command at the almost unheard-of youthful age of 30.

So it was incredible how he managed to feel like a nervous cadet again as he tapped the buzzer on the door in front of him.

“Come!” said a booming voice from within.

Mike stepped forward, the door sliding open automatically to allow him access. He’d entered an office, large but spartan, with only the furnishings needed for functionality. One of those furnishings was a broad wooden desk, and behind that desk was the hulking form of Admiral Hopper.

“Captain Wheeler,” he said by way of greeting. Indicating a chair in front of his desk, he added, “Sit.”

Just like him to phrase an invitation as a command. Mike had encountered Admiral Hopper several times in his years with Starfleet, and yet he’d never managed to overcome how intimidating he found the man to be. Hopper made him feel like a teenage boy whenever they were in the same room together. “Sir,” he responded politely, sitting in the offered chair.

Hopper offered him a courteous but perfunctory smile through his bushy moustache, eyes remaining enigmatic. “I wanted to discuss crew assignments for the _ Hawkins _ with you before you take her on her maiden voyage.”

Mike swallowed. “Was there a problem with my requests, sir?”

“Problem?” Hopper lifted an eyebrow. “No. No problem. In fact, your senior staff uniformly leaped at the assignments when they were offered.” He lifted a datapad that had been sitting in front of him, scrolling carelessly through its contents. “I notice that most of them graduated the same year that you did. Academy friends?”

Mike nodded. “Yes, sir. We’ve kept in touch in the years since, too.”

Hopper gave a thoughtful _ humph _ . “Well, that makes sense. If you’ve already got a rapport with your officers, that’ll make the job that much easier. And I’m sure I don’t need to tell you how important it is to have people around that you can trust.” He leaned forward on his desk, propping his weight on his elbows. “In point of fact, that brings me to want I wanted to discuss with you: _ trust _.”

It took all of Mike’s restraint not to lean back away from Hopper. “I don’t follow you, sir.”

“Hm,” said Hopper with a slight chuckle, as though he’d said something funny. He lifted the datapad again, pulled up a file on it, then slid it across the desk to Mike. “You will be receiving one additional assignment to your staff beyond who you requested,” he said.

Mike took the pad. It was currently displaying a Starfleet personnel file. “Eleven… Hopper…?” he read aloud. The first name was confusing, but the second was alarming. “Related, I take it?” he asked, a sense of dread settling into his stomach.

“My daughter,” explained Hopper. “Although I’ve only known of her existence for a few years. It’s a long and complicated story.”

“Well, I--”

“I met her mother during my starship days,” continued Hopper. “She was Tymbrimi--I don’t suppose you’re familiar?” Mike shook his head negative. “Not many are. They’re an insular species--not xenophobic, mind you, just their psychology is different enough that relating to the rest of the galaxy can be difficult.”

“And you, ah…” Mike wasn’t sure how to finish the query.

“Call it a whirlwind romance,” said Hopper, moustache twitching into a wry grin. “Of course, I had to move on, and didn’t think much on it beyond the odd nostalgic reminiscence. Imagine my surprise, then, when five years ago a young woman turned up on my doorstep claiming to be my daughter.”

“That… must have been a shock.”

“Understatement, Captain Wheeler. Nonetheless, she was telling the truth, so I’ve tried my best to do right by her.”

“I see.” Mike’s eyes flicked down to the datapad. “Why ‘Eleven’?”

Hopper shrugged. “It’s how she introduced herself to me. I gather it’s the literal translation of her Tymbrimi name. She won’t explain more than that--says it’d be too hard for me to understand. Most people just call her El.”

Mike frowned down at her file. _ Special Liaison Lieutenant Eleven Hopper _. Even with the backstory, it still brought up a lot of question marks. “Permission to speak freely, sir?” he asked, lifting his gaze back up to Hopper.

“Granted,” Hopper grunted.

“Why, exactly, are you assigning her to my ship?”

Hopper’s eyes twinkled, as though he approved of the question. “I’ve done my best to ease my daughter into life in the Federation, Captain Wheeler. But she spent the first twenty-four years of her life in an incredibly insular culture. She’s itching to get out there and see the galaxy for what it is, and I will no longer stand in her way.”

Mike’s lips pursed. “If you’ll forgive my saying so, sir… this is sounding dangerously close to nepotism.”

“I can see how it would,” replied Hopper. “But all I did was help her find opportunities. She seized them on her own, and she’s earned her place in Starfleet just as surely as anybody else on your ship. Furthermore, her Tymbrimi heritage has gifted her with certain… abilities, that I believe will be useful to you and your ship. You can trust me on that.” His gaze grew more intense. “Ah. There’s that word again: _ trust _.”

Mike swallowed.

“To be clear, Captain Wheeler, I am not asking for any special treatment for my daughter. I am merely trying to impress upon you that she will be on board _ your _ ship, which means that I am _ trusting _ you with her welfare. Do you understand me?”

What exactly was he implying with that? “What I understand, sir,” Mike replied stiffly, “is that your daughter will be a member of my crew. I have a duty to my crew, one that I take _ very _ seriously.” All fear now forgotten, he met Hopper’s gaze square on. “I will be looking out for your daughter’s welfare because I will be looking out for the welfare of _ every single person _ on the _ Hawkins _ . If you doubt that, then you doubt my integrity as a Starfleet officer. Do _ you _ understand _ me _?”

To his surprise, Hopper’s eyes were gleaming as he finished talking. _ Was that a test? Did I just pass? _ “Well, that’s all that I can fairly ask of you, Captain,” said Hopper. “Dismissed.”

Mike acknowledged with an incline of his head, then rose from the chair and exited Hopper’s office. He only made it a few feet down the hallway, however, before he suddenly found himself needing to lean against the wall.

_ Jesus, did I just tell off Admiral Hopper?! _

\- - -

Mike’s shock didn’t last long, however, steadily getting displaced by a growing sense of elation as he strode towards the docks of Starbase 715. Not even Admiral Hopper’s strange revelations could change the fact that this moment was the one that his life had been building towards ever since he’d signed up for Starfleet Academy. Every cadet, he was sure, harbored a private fantasy of sitting in the command chair of a starship--and now, that fantasy was about to become his reality.

The doors to the docks were up ahead. In front of them was standing a dark-skinned man in a smartly maintained Starfleet uniform, the red paneling marking him as a command officer. “Captain,” the man said in greeting as Mike approached.

Mike smiled at him. “We’re off-duty, Lucas.”

Lucas smiled back at him, a broad toothy grin that Mike remembered all too well. “Mike,” he amended. The two men stepped together into a tight embrace that ended with a mutual affectionate slap on each other’s backs.

“Look at you,” said Mike, looking down at his friend’s uniform. “Those commander’s pips look good on you.”

“Not as good as those captain’s pips look on you,” responded Lucas. “It’ll be an honor to be your first officer.”

“The honor’s mine,” said Mike. “Honestly, even if you weren’t my old friend, I probably would’ve picked you on your record alone.”

Lucas laughed. “Now _ that _ is a compliment, coming from you of all people.”

“_ Guuuuuuuuuys! _ ” The cry rang through the hallway, and Lucas and Mike turned toward its source to see a curly-haired figure in a blue science uniform barreling towards them at high speed. They only had a moment to brace themselves before the figure plowed into them and wrapped them both into a bear hug. “Holy shit, it is _ so _good to see you guys again!” exclaimed Dustin.

“Language,” chided Mike.

“What happened to being off-duty?” Lucas asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Decorum is 24/7,” replied Mike, though his attempt to keep a straight face as he looked back at Lucas failed miserably, and the two dissolved into laughter as they returned Dustin’s hug.

“Am I interrupting something here?” said a wry voice.

The three men turned. “Well, well, well,” said Lucas in an equally wry voice. “As I live and breathe--Maxine Mayfield!”

The interloper--a woman with a mane of searingly red hair wearing a gold operations uniform--tried her best to glare at him, though the effect was ruined by the smile that was creeping across their face. “That’s _ Security Chief Mayfield _ to you on-duty, and _ Max _ off-duty,” she said. “Only my mother calls me Maxine, and then only when I’m in a good mood. You know that, Lucas Sinclair.”

“Of course I do. How else would I know how to get you riled up?” 

Max stepped forward to give Lucas a playful cuff on the shoulder, but it quickly turned into an embrace, followed by her embracing Mike and Dustin in turn. “Look at us, back together again,” she said. “And I suppose we have you to thank for it, _ Captain Wheeler _.”

Mike grinned at her. “You can’t blame me for wanting the best crew I could possibly have, can you?”

She snorted. “I suppose Will’s already on board?”

“Oh, they’ve _ got _ to be running him ragged already,” Dustin said. “Shakedown, final checks, all of that jazz.”

“Meaning he’s probably happy as a Bolian partygoer,” added Lucas.

“That makes all of us, then,” Max said. “Shall we?”

“Ah,” said Mike, suddenly looking down the length of the hallway. “Not _ quite _ all of us, actually.”

The other three looked at him quizzically, then turned to follow his gaze down the hall. A lone figure was advancing towards them with a purposeful stride, dragging a rolling suitcase behind her.

Even without knowing that she was half-Tymbrimi, or Admiral Hopper’s daughter, Mike would’ve easily picked out Eleven Hopper in a crowd. There was something in her bearing that marked her as different. Maybe it was the way her even gaze took in everything around her with equal interest. Maybe it was the way that she seemed to _ flow _ through the space around her, as though she knew her place in it utterly. Maybe it was the fact that she was walking through a Starfleet base in a plain tunic and slacks. Somehow, Mike doubted it was just that last one.

“Captain Wheeler,” she said as she drew up to the group, nodding at him in greeting.

“Lieutenant Hopper,” he replied, nodding back. “You’re out of uniform.”

She didn’t even blink. “We’re currently off-duty and thus not required to be in uniform,” she replied evenly.

Mike drew in an exasperated breath. “True, but Starfleet tradition--”

“--is all well and good, but not grounds for you to reprimand me,” El interrupted, tone unchanged. “I will change into my uniform once I have settled aboard the ship. Will that satisfy you?”

“Yes,” replied Mike with a sigh, then added, “You’re right. My apologies.”

“Accepted,” said El. She gave him a smile that was slight but genuine. “I’m sure that preparing for your first command has you quite excited. Shall we board?”

“Who--?” Dustin began to whisper as El brushed past them.

“Later,” Mike murmured back. Together, the five of them moved toward the docks doors, which slid slowly open with a ceremonious rumble. As they parted, they revealed the slight form of Will Byers waiting behind them.

Mike grinned. “Well hello, Will.”

Excitement shone out of Will’s face as he looked at his friends gathered before him. “Mike! Everyone! You--” A flicker of confusion crossed his face as he noticed El, but he recovered quickly. “--you finally made it!”

“Wouldn’t miss this for the galaxy,” Mike said. He and his friends stepped forward and one by one greeted Will with a hug or a friendly clap on the arm, save for El, who simply gave him another of her small nods.

“Well,” said Will, once the excitement had died down slightly. “I’m willing to bet that you’re all eager to see her?”

“Quit holding out on us, Byers,” replied Max.

“That’d be a yes, then.” Will grinned at them. “Step right this way.”

The group moved over to a window overlooking the cavernous interior of the docks. As long as he had been readying himself for this moment, Mike was still taken off guard by the emotion that filled his breast when he saw the starship docked below. An oval disc of a main hull sat framed by two warp nacelles slung underneath, and a triangular auxiliary structure mounted above. The ship sat serenely as smaller craft buzzed around it, performing last-minute outer hull checks.

“_ Nebula _ -class, NCC-1983. Better known as the _ USS Hawkins _,” said Will.

They all gazed down at it for a long moment, entranced. Finally, Dustin broke the silence. “It’s--”

“--pretty,” El murmured.

Mike gave her a bemused sideways glance. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Really pretty.” That was an understatement; he thought that the _ Hawkins _was the most beautiful starship that he had ever laid eyes on.

Of course, he might have been a bit biased on that point.

“All right, crew,” he said, stepping back from the window. “As much as I’m sure that we could stand here and stare at her all day, I’m sure it’ll be even better to get on board her. Who’s with me?” A cheer went up from the rest of the group in response; even El flashed a brilliant, excited smile. “All right. All crew aboard!” They turned and took off along the dock’s walkway, and for a moment they were once again a gaggle of excited cadets, ready to embark on their great Starfleet adventure.

\- - -

“Captain on the bridge!” Lucas called as he walked through the doors. Mike followed a step and a half behind him, smiling internally as he saw the crew on the bridge leap up from their seats and stand at attention.

“As you were,” he said. Most of the crew returned to the tasks they had been engaged in; however, one young woman with brown skin and dark hair stepped away from the helm and towards him.

“Captain Wheeler?” she asked. She stuck her hand out towards him. “Lieutenant junior grade--”

“--Kali Prasad,” Mike finished, giving her a smile as he shook her hand. “Yes, I was certain to read up on my helm officer before I came aboard. It’s a pleasure to have you, Lieutenant.”

Kali beamed at him. “It’s my pleasure to be here, sir.” With that, she turned around and returned to her post.

Mike spared a glance around the bridge. It wasn’t the largest that he’d ever seen, but it was comfortable; it felt _ right _ to him. Max had made her way over to the tactical station and was examining its controls with an expression of giddy bliss. Lucas had taken a standing post leaning against the side of one of the secondary control boards, and raised his eyebrows significantly as he and Mike briefly caught each other’s gazes. Dustin and Will had already split off from the rest of them--Will returning to tend to business in Engineering, while Mike was sure that Dustin was currently going through the ship’s laboratory like a toddler in a candy store. That left… Mike’s eye fell on the operations console, which was standing conspicuously empty.

The door on the opposite end of the bridge from where Mike had entered whispered open, and El strode in. As promised, she had changed out of her plain civilian clothes and into her uniform--gold for operations. “Captain,” she said in greeting.

“Lieutenant Hopper,” Mike replied. “I’m to understand that you’ll be filling the role of operations officer for the time being?”

“For as long as you find me capable, sir,” she said with a nod.

_ She doesn’t sound like she thinks that’s in question. _ The thought stirred a trace of amusement in Mike. “Very well. To your post, then.” El turned fluidly and set herself down at the operations console. Kali looked up from what she was doing to offer her new neighbor a smile, which El returned to her in the small-but-warm fashion that Mike was starting to suspect was going to be typical of her. _ At least it looks like they’ll get along _.

Mike turned back to Lucas, who was gazing at El with an expression of deep skepticism. When he noticed Mike looking, though, he shook his head as if ridding himself of whatever he was thinking, and reached out to pat the back of the chair he was standing next to.

_ The _ chair.

It stood in the exact center of the bridge, raised two steps up from the lower half of the bridge on a small dais protruding from the rear platform. It was deceptively plain in design, but it still set Mike’s heart racing as he slowly walked toward it.

“You know you’ve sat in the chair before, right?” Lucas said as he approached.

“Yeah, as first officer,” replied Mike. “This is different.”

“If you say so,” Lucas said, but he was smiling. In fact, _ everyone _ was smiling, Mike realized--Max from her position at the rear wall, Kali and El both looking over their shoulders from their consoles, all of the crew on the bridge who had suddenly stopped what they were doing. Everyone’s eyes were on Mike.

Ignoring the sudden twisting in his stomach, Mike stepped up the two steps to the captain’s chair and settled himself into it with what he hoped was appropriate gravity.

_ This is it _.

Mike pressed a button on the chair’s arm to activate its built-in comm. “Mr. Byers, how are we looking in Engineering?”

“_ If you’ll pardon the expression, Captain, we’re ship-shape, _ ” responded Will’s voice. “ _ Everything’s ready to go on your command _.”

“Thank you, Mr. Byers.” Mike switched channels. “Mr. Henderson, we’re about to launch, so please lock down whatever it is you’re playing with.”

“_ I have no idea what you’re talking about, _” Dustin said. Something clattered in the background.

“Right,” said Mike, unable to suppress a grin. “You’ve got one minute.” He changed over to an open comm, broadcasting through the entire ship. “Crew of the _ USS Hawkins _, this is Captain Michael Wheeler,” he said. “I want to take a moment to thank you all for being here for the maiden voyage of this ship. We may all come from wildly different places, and we may all have taken wildly different paths to get here--” he found himself suddenly locking gazes with El “--but I have faith in your ability to come together as a crew and get the job done. And I will strive, in turn, to be equal to the faith that you place in me as your captain.” El was still holding his gaze as he closed the comm; he raised his eyebrows at her slightly, and with one last small smile she turned back to her console.

“Well, that’s enough for ceremony,” said Mike, turning his attention to the viewscreen. “Ms. Prasad, take us out of dock--nice and easy.”

“Aye, sir,” replied Kali. She touched a control on her screen, and Mike felt a deep, humming vibration beneath his feet as the _ Hawkins _’ engines came to life. On the viewscreen, the interior of the dock began to slowly slide past them. A hush had fallen over the bridge, everybody’s gazes locked on the patch of space at the far end of the dock as it grew larger and larger.

Then at last they reached it, and a cheer went up as they pulled free of the docks, sliding into the space beyond Starbase 715.

“The _ Hawkins _ is away,” said Mike, not caring about the huge, stupid grin plastered over his face. “Mr. Sinclair, what’s our first assignment?”

Lucas looked slyly over at him, though he was wearing a similar grin. “Patrol through the Levy system, and a handful of surrounding systems.”

“Starting us off easy? Well, I suppose I can live with that for now.” Mike leaned back in his chair. “Ms. Prasad, lay in a course for the Levy system, warp 4.”

“Course laid in, sir.”

“Engage!”

The ship thrummed as the warp core powered up, sending the _ Hawkins _ off on its first mission.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so basically this idea got stuck in my head and wouldn't leave. Don't worry, there's *lots* more to come. Hopefully you'll enjoy reading it as much as I'm enjoying writing it.


	2. Lost And Found

“ _ Captain’s log: Nearly a week now into our first mission. All seems quiet around the Levy system, and the crew has comfortably settled into their routine. For my part, I’ve been taking advantage of the lull to familiarize myself with the  _ Hawkins _ and the various personalities that make up her crew. _ ”

“Come on in!” called a voice, and Mike stepped through the doors as they whisked open, walking into the  _ Hawkins _ ’ sickbay. “Oh--if it isn’t Captain Wheeler! What can I do for you?” The voice belonged to a Tellarite--an older one, as far as Mike could tell, although since Tellarite skin tended naturally towards weathered and wrinkled it was hard to say for sure. Unusually for his species (or at least the ones Mike had met previously), he had no facial hair to speak of and kept the rapidly graying hair on his head cropped short, such that Mike could almost have mistaken him for a human, if it weren’t for the prominent upturned, almost porcine nose.

“Nothing in particular,” Mike said in response to the Tellarite’s question, smiling at him politely. “It simply occurred to me that I had yet to meet face-to-face with my ship’s doctor and, well, that struck me as a major oversight.”

“Well, a pleasure to have that rectified, then,” said the Tellarite, crossing over to Mike and catching his hand in a firm grip. “Doctor Sammet Ouvens, at your service, Captain.” Mike noted the pronunciation--emphasis on the first syllable, and gliding over the ‘v’ as though it were barely there. He had a personal rule that he was only allowed to mispronounce his crew’s names once at the most. “Though you can feel free to call me Sam,” Doctor Ouvens continued. “Or Doctor Sam if you insist on being formal.”

“Doctor Sam, then,” replied Mike with a laugh. “Good to officially meet you. I’ve been over your files, of course. It sounds like you’re well-traveled despite joining Starfleet relatively recently.”

Doctor Ouvens chuckled good-naturedly and went to tidy up some equipment he’d left sitting out when he’d gone to greet Mike. “I’ve been a few places, yes. I used to work as a bit of a freelance agent, and it took me all over the quadrant.”

“What sort of work did you do?”

“Oh… a bit of this and that, whatever needed doing. Nothing that would be terribly interesting to a Starfleet captain, I’m sure.”

Mike gave a soft frown of puzzlement, but before he could press the question, the combadge on his chest chirped with an incoming message.

“ _ Sinclair to Captain Wheeler, _ ” Lucas’s voice said.

Mike tapped his combadge to activate it. “Wheeler here. Go ahead, Mr. Sinclair.”

“ _ We’ve received a priority transmission from Starfleet. Looks like new orders. _ ”

New orders already? They weren’t done with their current mission yet… which could only mean an urgent matter. “Understood,” Mike replied. “Have the command staff meet me in the ready room in fifteen minutes. Wheeler out.”

- - -

“Just under fifty hours ago,” Mike said, “a research station in orbit around Holland IV was attacked and destroyed by an unknown aggressor.”

The effect of his words on the people sitting around the ready room’s table was immediate. Mike had called in all of his senior officers--Lucas, Max, Dustin, Will, and El. Right now they were all trading uncertain glances with each other; the only exception was Lucas, who was sitting directly to Mike’s right and who’d already been privy to the briefing.

“Do we have any leads on the perpetrator?” asked Max. “Raiders, maybe?”

“I bet it was the Romulans,” put in Dustin. “Or maybe the Klingons.”

Will shot him a pointed look across the table. “We’re at  _ peace _ with the Klingons.”

“You really think that’s going to stop a glory-hungry Klingon captain?”

Mike cleared his throat loudly, and the conversation subsided. “I said ‘unknown’ and I meant ‘unknown,’” he said. “The identity of the perpetrator is not our concern right now--that’s a matter for Starfleet Intelligence. What concerns us is the contents of the base’s remains.” He looked over to Lucas. “Mr. Sinclair?”

“The base was equipped with an emergency database,” Lucas said. “Kind of a black box. It’ll contain sensor readings running right up to the moment of destruction. Right now, all Starfleet Intelligence has to go on is the testimony of a bunch of fairly freaked out survivors, so retrieving that information will be a huge help to their investigation.”

Max raised a skeptical eyebrow. “And what if this database was destroyed in the attack?”

“It’s designed to be physically durable and resistant to data corruption,” said Mike. “But a fair point nonetheless--we’ll need contingency plans in place to access the database in the event it’s been compromised. Mr. Byers, that’ll be a job for you and your people.”

“If you can get me the specs on the database, I’ll start going over them immediately,” Will said.

Mike nodded. “Of course, we’re going to need to find the database in the wreckage before we can do anything with it. Ms. Hopper, that’s your department.”

“Not a problem,” El said evenly. Beside him, Mike heard Lucas let out a quiet snort--just barely audible even at the distance Mike was sitting at. He glanced briefly over at his first officer but didn’t comment.

“Right. Mr. Byers, Ms. Hopper, you have your assignments. The rest of you, return to your posts and stand by for further instructions. Dismissed.”

Max, Dustin, Will, and El all rose from the table and crowded out of the ready room. Lucas remained sitting next to Mike, who couldn’t help but notice that he was following El with a hard gaze as she made her way over and out the door.

“You look like you have something on your mind, Lucas,” Mike said mildly as the door slid shut behind the departing officers.

Lucas turned back to him with a humorless smile. “You  _ cannot _ tell me that you’re comfortable with that situation, Mike.”

“What situation are you referring to?” Mike asked, raising his eyebrows slightly.

Lucas’s face pulled into an exasperated expression. “Don’t try playing coy with me. Lieutenant Hopper, of course.” He gestured back at the door she’d left through. “I mean, she’s been in Starfleet for less than five years, and she’s already made full lieutenant? With a bridge posting? And  _ just coincidentally _ , she happens to be Admiral Hopper’s daughter?”

“Fast-track programs exist.”   
  


“Yeah, and I wonder how she got into those.” Lucas sank back into his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Come on, Mike.  _ Tell _ me this doesn’t smell just a little funny.”

Mike sighed. Considering his own reaction to El’s assignment a scant few days ago, he couldn’t exactly dispute Lucas’s reasoning. “Yes, I thought so too. And I told Admiral Hopper so when he first handed me the assignment.”

Lucas blinked in surprise. “No shi--er, really. What’d he say back to you?”

“That he understood my concerns, but that Lieutenant Hopper had earned her position and would be an asset to the  _ Hawkins _ .” Mike slid his gaze over to meet Lucas’s directly. “And I think that’s what I’m going to have to tell you, Lucas. I understand your concerns, but so far Lieutenant Hopper has proven to be a perfectly competent operations officer.”

Lucas snorted. “She’s barely had to handle anything since we set out. Anybody can read numbers off a screen.”

“Then this scenario should be a good test of her abilities, don’t you think?”

“...I suppose so.”

“We’ll have to leave it at that, then.” Mike eyed his friend; he knew Lucas well enough to know that the man’s doubts were far from being dispelled. Nothing for that but time, and hopefully a strong showing from El on this mission. “Is there anything else?”

“No, captain.”

“All right. Then let the bridge know that I’ll be with them shortly. I’ll call when I need you.”

Lucas nodded once, rose, and exited the ready room, leaving Mike to his own thoughts.

- - -

The  _ Hawkins _ roared into the Holland system at high warp, dropping down to impulse as it entered the gravitational boundaries of the system. Kali immediately set about putting the ship on a course to the fourth planet in the system.

“Thank you, Ms. Prasad,” Mike said from the captain’s chair. “Ms. Hopper, do you have the station on sensors?”

Staring down at her console, El sucked in a breath. “About that… we’ve got a problem here, captain.”

Mike groaned internally, sagging slightly in his chair. “That didn’t take long. What is it?”

El gestured across her screen, throwing up her readings to be visible on the bridge’s main viewscreen. “It looks like, in the time elapsed since the station’s destruction, the planet’s gravitational forces have pulled it completely apart. We’re not looking at a dead station so much as a debris field in orbit.”

Mike’s heart sank as he scanned the readings. The debris field was sizable--there must’ve been a lot of station to pull apart. “How bad are we talking here, Ms. Hopper?”

“Bad. Near as I can tell, there’s not much of anything left in the field that’s larger than my console.” El rapped her knuckles lightly against the console in question to make the point.

“I’m getting needle-in-a-haystack feelings here,” said Lucas from where he was standing beside Mike’s chair. “Please tell me we’re not going to have to search the entire field by hand.”

“Well, good news there,” El replied. “The database we’re looking for was fitted with a time-delayed emergency homing beacon. If it’s still functioning--” she worked her console for a moment, and Mike saw her expression brighten “--and it looks like it is… I’ve got its location.”

Lucas breathed out a sigh of relief, and Mike glanced up at him with a wry smile. Lucas caught the look and rolled his eyes as if to say  _ okay, fine,  _ but their unspoken exchange was interrupted by El speaking again. “Ah. Okay. Time for bad news again. The database’s location is almost exactly in the dead center of the field.” Her statement was punctuated by a bright red dot flaring up on the display to indicate the database. “We’re going to need to pick our way through most of the debris to get to it.”

Mike sucked a breath in through his teeth. “Getting a ship as big as the  _ Hawkins _ through all of that will be iffy.”

“We don’t need to take the  _ Hawkins _ , sir.” Kali was the one who had spoken, swiveling around in her chair to face him. “I can take one of the shuttles out there. It’ll be a lot better at navigating around the debris.”

Mike shook his head. “Good initiative, Ms. Prasad, but I’m not sending my helm officer out into a risky situation like this one.”

“Yeah, you’re not,” Max said from behind him. She stepped forward from the tactical station and moved into Mike’s field of view, on the opposite side from Lucas. “Send me.”

“My tactical officer and security chief is  _ not _ more expendable than my helm officer, Ms. Mayfield,” Mike said, turning to look at her.

“It’s not a matter of who’s expendable,” Max said, crossing her arms. “I’m the best shuttle pilot out of all of us. Remember the belt run from when we were in the Academy?”

“We all agreed afterwards that that had been a  _ terrible _ idea.”

Max grinned at him. “Yeah, because I did it for a dare. This is Starfleet business. The point is, I can do it.”

“Max--” Lucas started to say from Mike’s other side, prompting Mike to turn around and give him a sharp look. Lucas subsided into silence, gaze dropping down to the floor. Turning again to face forward, Mike steepled his fingers in front of his face, gazing thoughtfully at the readings on the viewscreen. He was vaguely aware that everybody at the bridge was looking at him--a sensation that he was starting to get used to. This, he supposed, was what it meant to be in command.

“All right,” he said at last. “You have a shuttle, Ms. Mayfield. Get to it.”

- - -

“Shuttle is away,” El reported.

Mike nodded. “Good luck, Ms. Mayfield.”

“And come back in one piece,” Lucas added. “Consider that an order.”

“ _ Don’t worry about that, Commander, _ ” Max’s voice came back over the comm. “ _ You’re not getting rid of me that easily. _ ” Her shuttle appeared as a small blue blip on the viewscreen, crossing the distance between the  _ Hawkins _ and the edge of the debris field.

“Commander, you’re moving too fast,” El said. “Recommend you decrease speed to--”

“ _ Recommendation acknowledged and ignored, Lieutenant. Watch and learn. _ ”

Mike and Lucas shared an exasperated look between them. “Some things never change, do they?” Mike said, just loud enough to be heard by Lucas. Lucas only sighed in response and shook his head, turning his gaze back to the viewscreen.

“Commander Mayfield is entering the debris field,” El said. “She--” She goggled momentarily at her console. “Oh. Um. Wow.”

Mike had to bite back a laugh at that. He and Lucas were the only ones on the bridge not gaping at Max’s progress on the viewscreen--she was maneuvering through the debris field at a speed that Starfleet regulations would almost certainly have called inadvisable. “It looks like we’re all learning something about our security chief today. How’re you doing out there, Ms. Mayfield?”

“ _ A bit bored, _ ” Max responded. “ _ This is too easy. _ ”

“All right, all right. Stay focused on the mission.”

“ _ Yes sir, Captain, sir. _ ” Max’s tone was distinctly sarcastic.

Mike flicked a glance over at Lucas. “That was just this side of insubordination,” he muttered, annoyed.

Lucas raised his eyebrows. “And this surprises you because…?” he murmured back.

“ _ Closing in on the target now, _ ” Max reported. The blue blip representing her shuttle was rapidly approaching the red blip representing the database. “ _ Tractor beam range in fifteen seconds… ten… five… _ ” Something beeped on her end of the comm. “ _ ...and locked. I’m reeling her in now, Captain. _ ”

“Good work, Ms. Mayfield,” Mike said, annoyance forgotten. “Get it aboard and secured, and get back to the  _ Hawkins  _ post-haste.”

“ _ Aye, sir. _ ” There were more beeps on Max’s end as she worked the shuttle’s controls. _ _ “ _ I’ll just need a minute to-- _ ”

Max continued to talk, but Mike’s attention was pulled away by a sudden gasp from El. “Commander, get out of--!”

Max’s line abruptly dissolved into static. At the same moment, a brilliant white bloom appeared on the sensor readings, right on top of Max’s position.

“ _ Max! _ ” Lucas shouted, stepping forward at the same time that Mike surged to his feet, shouting “Report! What the hell just happened?!”

“I don’t know!” For the first time since Mike had known her, a note of panic had crept into El’s voice. “I think she lit off something volatile, or maybe some kind of failsafe--?”

Mike’s stomach sank sharply. “Is she…?”

“I don’t think so.” El was punching furiously at her console. “Even being generous, the yield wasn’t enough to destroy her shuttle. But…” She continued working her console for several moments, until finally her shoulders sagged in defeat. “The explosion knocked her shuttle’s systems completely offline. I can’t get a read on her.”

“If her signature’s gone, then scan for waste heat!” Lucas snapped.

El shot him an irritated look over her shoulder. “I  _ tried _ ,” she said. “But the debris field is giving off ambient heat as well. It’s acting like chaff.” Her expression softened. “I’m sorry, sir… I don’t think the  _ Hawkins _ ’ sensors can find her.”

Lucas staggered back a step, swaying slightly on his feet. Mike clapped a hand to his friend’s shoulder to steady him. “If… if we go to her last known location…” Lucas started to say.

“Sir?” Kali cut in tentatively. “If the explosion knocked out her stabilizers, then it probably sent her flying. Without knowing what angle it hit her at… she could be almost anywhere in the field.”

“It’s a starting point,” said Mike firmly. “Damn the debris, we’re going in after her. We start at the point of explosion and run a standard search pattern from there.”

Lucas looked up at him, and Mike could see emotion flickering in his eyes like flame. “That could take  _ hours _ .”

“Then it takes hours!” Mike said. “It’s the best chance we’ve got at finding her, unless you have a better idea.”

Lucas opened his mouth to say something back, but before he could, El’s voice interrupted, quiet but insistent. “I have another way.”

The two men turned together to look at her. “I’m listening, Lieutenant,” Mike said.

El grimaced nervously, looked down at her lap, then back up at Mike. “Do… do you have any personal effects from Commander Mayfield? Anything she would have carried around with her or kept with her regularly?”

“What--?” Lucas started to ask, but Mike was already moving. In a few purposeful strides, he crossed the distance over to the tactical station and started hunting around its nooks and edges.  _ It’s got to be around here somewhere… _ It only took him a few moments to find what he was looking for: a small gold commemorative coin, a parting gift that Lucas had given to Max when they all had graduated from the Academy. Mike had shared his first ship posting with her, and sure enough, she still kept the coin around as a good luck charm. “Will this work?” he asked, crossing over to El and laying it in her upturned palm.

She regarded the coin for a moment, turning it over in her fingers. “Yes,” she said. “This feels like her.”

Mike nodded. “Then do what you need to do.”

“You want to explain to me what the  _ hell _ is happening here?” Lucas whispered furiously as Mike crossed back over to him.

Mike blew out a sigh through his nose. “I keep telling you, Lucas--you need to be more diligent about reading your personnel files.” Granted, this particular section of El’s file was classified; Lucas was the only other person on the  _ Hawkins _ who had access to it.

El had withdrawn a length of black cloth from one of her uniform’s inside pockets, and as the bridge crew watched, enraptured, she wound it around her eyes, blindfolding herself. She clutched the coin in her hand, mouth set in a line of deep concentration. Mike felt something in his chest squeeze in awe as he watched her. The abilities El had inherited from her Tymbrimi mother were not well understood by Starfleet--not least because of her refusal to be treated like a lab rat--but there was one that they were certain she possessed in some form.

_ Extrasensory perception. _

A length of time slid past, during which it felt like nobody on the bridge so much as breathed. Then, at last, El drew in a small gasp. “I see her,” she said.

“Is…” Lucas looked at Mike, unsure, then back at El. “Is she…?”

“She’s alive,” El confirmed, and out of the corner of his eye Mike could see Lucas sag as his body relaxed. “She’s injured, but it looks like she managed to get into an emergency vacuum suit. I think she’s trying to repair the shuttle.”

“Do you have her location?” Mike asked, doing his best to keep his tone patient.

“I do, but…” El grimaced. “Putting it into coordinates is… difficult. I can’t…” She thought for a moment. “Lieutenant Prasad, can you pitch the ship up thirty-one degrees?”

Kali looked uncertainly at Mike, who gave her a single nod. Thus reassured, she tapped at her controls, and the  _ Hawkins  _ rumbled into motion.

“There,” said El. “Now… yaw to port, nineteen degrees.” Another rumble as the  _ Hawkins  _ adjusted position. “There. Our nose is now pointed directly at Commander Mayfield.”

“Take us forward, one-quarter impulse,” said Mike. “Easy does it. Give me maximum shields and have phasers on standby to burn off any debris that gets too close.” With Max gone, the backup tactical officer stepped into her post to carry out Mike’s orders. “And give me forward visual on the viewscreen, fifty-times magnification.”

The viewscreen switched over, clouds of debris from the wrecked station tumbling chaotically as far as could be seen. The  _ Hawkins _ slid gently into the field, coasting past the glittering pieces. For several long minutes, they proceeded in silence, punctuated only by periodic bright stabs of phaser fire clearing their path, and the occasional murmured instruction from El to Kali correcting their course. Just when Mike was sure the tension was about to rip him in two, Lucas suddenly surged forward. “ _ There! _ ” he cried, pointing at the viewscreen. Mike followed his gesture. It was small, but now that he was looking at it, it was unmistakable: the shape of the  _ Hawkins’ _ missing shuttle.

“Get me a lock on that, now!” Mike snapped, and he heard the bridge crew jump into action behind him. “Prepare tractor beam, and get us into range.”

“Preparing…” said one of the auxiliary bridge officers, a Caitian with tawny fur. “Tractor beam is ready. We’re coming into range now.”

“Bring her in.”

The  _ Hawkins’ _ tractor beam shot out in a blaze of light, enveloping the shuttle and drawing it back towards the ship. “Reeling her in,” said the auxiliary bridge officer. “Almost there… almost…” A shudder rattled through the  _ Hawkins _ . “We have it,” said the bridge officer, smile bleeding into his voice. “The shuttle’s being towed into the shuttle bay now.”

A cheer went up through the entire bridge, a few of the crew even punching the air in triumph. “Captain,” Lucas said from Mike’s side. “I think maybe I should go down and see if--”

“Go,” said Mike, waving him away. Lucas headed for the bridge’s door at a fast walk, and if he didn’t quite manage to hold back from breaking into a sprint before the door closed behind him, well, Mike decided that he hadn’t noticed. “Lieutenant Hopper,” he said, turning back towards El. “You--” He trailed off, congratulations dying in his throat. El had slipped the blindfold from her eyes, and as she turned towards him an expression of weary triumph, Mike’s eyes fixed on the small stream of blood that was trickling from her left nostril. “Lieutenant, you’re  _ bleeding _ .”

El’s hand went up to her nose as a murmur of concern went around the bridge. “What, this?” she asked, daubing carelessly at it. “This is fine, it’s normal.”

“That’s  _ normal _ ?” Mike couldn’t keep an edge of horror out of his voice.

“Yes, it is.” El turned resolutely back around to face her console. “I’m fine, captain.”

Mike wanted to object, but bit it back, conscious of the number of eyes that were currently on him and El. “All right, Ms. Prasad,” he said instead. “Get us out of this debris, and set a course for the nearest starbase.”

- - -

The doors to sickbay swished open in front of Mike. Inside, Max was laid out on one of the beds; Lucas was sitting next to her at the head. “Well, well, well,” Max said as Mike approached them. “The captain himself has come to visit me on my sickbed! This is a rare honor.”

“You must be doing all right if your sense of sarcasm is still intact,” Mike shot back, failing to keep a grin off his face. “What do you think, Doctor? How is she?”

Doctor Ouvens looked up from the terminal he was working at on the other end of the room. “Scrapes, bruises, cuts, a light bit of internal damage,” he replied mildly. “Nothing I can’t fix up. She’ll be back on her feet in less than a day.”

“There you have it,” said Mike, looking back at Max. “Can’t keep you down, Mayfield.”

“Well, she  _ did _ promise to come back intact,” Lucas added. “And we all know that when Max Mayfield says she’s going to do something, she damn well does it.”

“Damn right I do,” said Max. “I totally made it through that debris, too. I told you I could.”

“And then you went and got yourself blown up,” Mike said.

“ _ After _ I made it through the debris. So it doesn’t count.” Max’s eyes narrowed into what Mike knew was her  _ try me _ expression. “I even got the database back intact. So I’ll be having that commendation anytime you feel like coughing it up,  _ Captain. _ ”

Mike grinned and was about to fire off a retort when he was interrupted by El’s voice from behind him. “Oh… I’m sorry.” The three of them turned to see El standing tentatively in the doorway, hands clasped behind her back. “I just wanted to check up on Commander Mayfield--I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Uh-uh. No apologies from the lady of the hour.” Max waved her in. “Get in here.”

El obeyed with a shy smile. “I really didn’t do anything--”

“Bullshit,” Max said, and Mike saw El wince slightly at the expletive. “You saved my damn life is what you did.”

“Really,” El replied, shaking her head. “I was just doing my duty…”

“And you did it admirably,” Lucas said. “ _ Exemplary _ , even.” 

Mike raised an eyebrow at him; Lucas flashed him a quick glare as if to say  _ quiet, you _ . “Just go ahead and take the compliment, Lieutenant,” Mike said. “You earned it today.”

El flushed slightly. “Thank you, Captain. And all of you. I’m glad you’re well, Commander Mayfield.” She turned and left the room, the door swishing open and shut as she passed.

Mike stared after her for a long second. “All right, if you’ll excuse me,” he said, looking back at Max and Lucas. “I have something I should take care of.” They both raised questioning eyebrows at him, but acknowledged the excuse with slight nods. Mike gave them one last smile before he too turned and exited the sickbay.

Fortunately, El hadn’t gone far; Mike could still see her walking a ways down the hall. “Lieutenant!” he called. El came to a stop and turned to face him as he strode down the hallway to catch up to her. “Lieutenant, I…” Mike started, faltering. He frowned, shook his head, and continued, “I just… wanted to give you my personal thanks. Max is a good friend on top of being one of my senior officers. Saving her the way you did was no small thing.”

El’s eyes, piercing and bright, roved over his face. “But there was something else you wanted to say to me,” she said. It wasn’t a question.

Damn it, she’d seen right through him. “I… am somewhat concerned by the effects that you powers seem to have on your body,” he admitted.

“I told you that was normal,” she said.

“You did,” he replied. “And I trust that you would’ve known by now if the harm was acute. But given that you’re the only human-Tymbrimi hybrid known to exist…” He trailed off, trying to gauge El’s reaction to what he was saying, but her expression betrayed nothing. “...I’m worried about the possibility of chronic damage,” he finished, feeling intensely awkward.

For a moment, El’s face remained inscrutable, and then her lips pulled up into a small, brilliant smile. “Your concern is touching, captain,” she said. “But I need you to trust me on this matter. I know my limits.”

Mike felt his mouth pulling up into a smile of his own, almost in automatic response to her smiling at him. “I… suppose I can do that,” he said. “If you can promise me that in addition to  _ knowing _ your limits, you will also  _ observe _ them.”

“Very well, captain,” said El, eyes gleaming with something Mike couldn’t identify. “Promise.”

“Thank you, lieutenant.” Mike took a step back, nodding at her. “As you were.” El turned and continued on her way down the hallway; Mike watched her go until she reached its end, disappearing around the far corner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, properly into the swing of things now. I've got a small buffer of completed but unpublished chapters, so the plan for the moment is to publish one every week around Friday evening or Saturday morning. Watch this space!


	3. Scientific Method

“ _ Captain’s log: Following the completion of our previous mission, we have returned to Starbase 413 for rest and resupply. Waiting there for us were two new transfers assigned to us by Starfleet. As captain, it is my duty to welcome them to the  _ Hawkins _ and ensure that they settle in and get acclimated to the ship. _ ”

Two ensigns stood awkwardly at ease in front of Mike’s desk. He repressed the urge to sigh heavily at the sight. It was always ensigns, somehow. He could swear that every ship in Starfleet was crewed entirely by ensigns. Didn’t they have any enlisted crew anywhere? “So,” he said out loud. “Ensigns… Harrington and Buckley, was it?”

“That’s us, sir,” said the man of the pair--Ensign Steve Harrington--attempting to stand up even straighter than he was before. A single lock of his rather distractingly well-coiffed hair fell down into his face. “It’s an honor to be aboard the  _ Hawkins _ .”

“An honor to have you,” replied Mike, the platitude tumbling automatically out of his mouth. He flicked his gaze over to the woman--Ensign Robin Buckley. Unlike Steve, her attempt to stand up straight was merely cursory, and while her expression was guarded, Mike could read a certain acid aloofness in her.  _ Major insubordination risk, _ his officer’s instincts murmured to him. Well, he wasn’t going to be the one who had to deal with her. “You’ve been transferred aboard at the request of my science officer, who wants a couple extra pairs of hands around his lab,” Mike continued. He looked down at the datapad sitting on his desk. “Quote, ‘I’ve got so many awesome ideas that it’s pulling me apart and I need somebody to help keep me together,’ end quote.” He looked back up at the two ensigns and took more delight than he probably should have at the confusion apparent in their expressions. “You are to report to the science lab under the command of Lieutenant Dustin Henderson right away.”

“Oh, uh…” Steve said. Robin subtly shifted her weight onto her left foot, freeing up her right to deliver a small but sharp kick to his ankle; Mike’s eyebrow shot up a quarter inch at the sight. “I mean, yeah, of course. Right away, sir,” Steve finished.

Mike nodded slowly at the pair of them. “All right. Dismissed.”

- - -

“Whew,” Steve exhaled as the two ensigns stepped out into the hallway. “How does a guy that young manage to be that  _ intense _ ? He’s, like, five years younger than me and already a captain.”

“You’re thirty-five and he’s thirty,” Robin replied, shooting him a sideways glance as they walked. “I think you’re just going to have to get over it, man. It’s not his fault you signed up late.”

“Hey, it is  _ never _ too late to join Starfleet,” said Steve, quoting an old recruitment ad for about the millionth time since Robin had known him.

“Yeah, that doesn’t mean you’re going to be among the best and brightest. I’m pretty sure Captain Wheeler joined Starfleet because it was what he wanted to do, not because he was a deadbeat who didn’t have anything better to do with his life.”

Steve huffed at her. “Oh yeah? What does that make you, then?”

Robin smiled sweetly back at him. “A deadbeat who doesn’t have anything better to do with her life… and is  _ perfectly fine _ with that, thank you very much.”

“Ha!” Steve laughed. The two of them were far too used to volleying insults back and forth for any real hurt at this point. “Well, who knows. Maybe Starfleet ladies are into the laid-back types. Uh… science deck?” The last part was directed at the turbolift they had just stepped into, which resolutely refused to move at his attempt at instruction.

“Deck sixteen,” Robin said, and the turbolift snapped shut and began to move. “Yeah, because that worked  _ so _ well for you in the Academy. Or are you intending to bring them in with the patented Harrington charm?”

Steve winked at her. “Don’t worry. I’ll leave a few for you.”

“So generous,” said Robin, rolling her eyes. The turbolift slowed to a halt and slid open, letting them out into a hallway. Several doors down, they could see a bright blue light emitting from one of the rooms around the edges of the door.

“Oh. Um.” Steve faltered to a halt. “That’s… not the science lab, is it?”

“What’s your best guess, dingus?” Robin said. “Come on.” With a reluctant Steve in tow, she marched to the glowing door and hit the buzzer.

“One minute, one minute, one minute!” came a voice from the inside, pitched to carry over the ominous crackling that had become audible as they had approached. After a moment, the noise died away, as did the blue glow shining through the door’s cracks. A moment after that, the door slid open to reveal a broad-faced young man with a mop of curly hair, dressed in a disheveled science uniform and a dark pair of tinted goggles around his neck. “Yes?”

“Uh…” Steve’s gaze swept over the man. “Lieutenant Henderson?”

“That’s me,” Dustin said.

He looked to be about the same age as Mike.  _ Seriously, not another senior officer who’s younger than me? _ “We’re, uh…” Steve started to say.

“We’re your new lab assistants,” Robin finished for him.

A look of delight broke over Dustin’s face. “Oh. Oh! Wonderful, that’s… please, please come in.” He stepped back to let them into the room. The science lab had clearly once been the sort of pristine, high-tech space that one would expect to find on a Starfleet vessel. However, it was currently thoroughly in shambles, equipment shoved haphazardly to the edges of the room in order to make room for… some metal monstrosity of a device that was sitting in the center.

“So, uh…” Steve tried to put on a cheery tone. “What’re you doing here, Lieutenant?”

“Oh, just call me Henderson, it’s fine.” Dustin bustled over to one of the piles of equipment and fished out two extra pairs of tinted goggles identical to the one he had. “Here, you’re going to want these,” he said, crossing back over to Steve and Robin.

Robin took the offered goggles and regarded them with obvious trepidation. “For what, exactly?” she asked.

“My latest experiment,” Dustin said. His grin put Steve in mind of an overexcited grade schooler, which was  _ not _ an impression he wanted to get from his science officer. “I’m tinkering with a novel method for plasma containment.”

“Plasma containment?” Steve asked, as Robin made a small noise. “You’re… containing plasma? With that?” He pointed at the device. “In  _ here _ ?”

“Yeah!” said Dustin, slipping on his goggles and remaining thoroughly oblivious to his assistants’ lack of enthusiasm. “Just trying out something I came up with to see if it’s viable.”

“And… if there’s a rupture in the containment?” Steve asked.

“Then we know it’s not viable,” Dustin said. He took up a position at a console that had been set up a few feet away from the device, connected to it by a series of seriously thick cables. “Come on, get those goggles on. I’m pretty sure you don’t want to spend your first day aboard getting your retinas repaired by Doctor Ouvens.”

Steve and Robin traded a look that spoke of impending doom, and as one went to slide their goggles on over their eyes.

“All right,” smiled Dustin, his hand hovering over the console. “Now, if you notice any power fluctuations, I’m going to need you to--” He was interrupted by the chime of somebody else at the door. “Oh, come on,” he moaned, tearing his goggles off. “ _ What is it?! _ ”

The door slid open behind Steve and Robin; they stepped apart to allow the visitor past them, removing their goggles at the same time. The visitor was a slight man in a yellow operations uniform, and he gazed critically at the device as he approached it. “Do I  _ want _ to know what this is?” he asked.

“Oh, hey Will!” Dustin said brightly. “What brings you up here?”

“Byers,” Robin muttered to Steve. “Chief engineer.”

“Oh,” Steve muttered back. “I mean, yeah, of course. I knew that.” Robin shot him a withering look.

“Something was causing a significant power drain on this level,” Will said in answer to Dustin’s question. “I came up to investigate what it was.”

“What, and so you came directly to my lab?”

Will just looked at him.

“Okay, yeah, fair,” Dustin conceded. He stepped forward from the console to stand next to Will. “But check it out. I was thinking, if I create a containment field with pseudomagnetic induction, I can make a plasma container that uses nearly thirty percent less power than our current methods!”

“That’s… fascinating,” Will replied, eyeing the setup with what could only be described as queasy interest. “You  _ did _ clear this with the captain, right?”

Dustin waved an airy hand. “Don’t worry about it, it’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, hearing you say that gives me flashbacks.” Will’s hand shot out and grabbed Dustin by the sleeve. “We’re going to Mike  _ right now _ .”

“C’mon, Will!” Dustin whined, pulling away from his friend’s grip.

Will crossed his arms and fixed Dustin with a no-nonsense glare. “Don’t make me pull rank on you here,  _ Lieutenant. _ ”

Dustin let out a long groan. “Fiiiiine,” he said. “Fine. Just let me…” He stepped around the device, uncoupling cables and flipping switches while Will, Steve, and Robin watched with varying levels of unsettled interest. “All right, let’s go,” Dustin said when he was done. “You two, while I’m gone, why don’t you…” He thought for a moment. “Actually, just stay here and don’t touch anything. I’ll be back soon.”

Will and Dustin exited the lab together; Steve and Robin stuck their heads out the door to watch them as they walked up the hall towards the turbolift, the sound of their conversation drifting back.

“You don’t have to rub it in my face just because I’m the only one who hasn’t made lieutenant commander yet,” Dustin grumbled.

“You would’ve by now if you’d just  _ follow protocol _ \--” Will replied, and then they were in the turbolift and the doors had closed behind them.

Robin and Steve pulled their heads back into the lab, the door closing as they vacated its space. “So we’re working for a mad scientist,” Steve said. “Great. That’s great. Our Starfleet adventure is off to a wonderful start.”

“I mean, we could be on maintenance duty,” Robin said, dragging a stool out of one of the piles around the edges of the room, setting it upright, and letting her weight drop down onto it with a heavy  _ plop _ . “At least this won’t be boring, right?”

“Yeah, sure, just  _ lethal _ .” Steve paced back and forth in agitation. “Shit, I think I’d prefer scrubbing toilets to this.”

“Is this you volunteering?” asked Robin, raising a teasing eyebrow.

Steve snorted. “Can you imagine how Captain Wheeler would react to somebody  _ requesting  _ latrine duty?” They contemplated the thought for a moment before bursting into simultaneous, uproarious fits of laughter.

“Okay, now you  _ have _ to do it,” Robin wheezed as the laughter trailed off. “And you have to get a picture of his face for me.”

Steve opened his mouth to say something in response, but he suddenly paused, a frown crossing his face. “Hey, do you hear that?”

Robin frowned in response, a mirror to Steve. Now that he mentioned it… there was a high, insistent kind of electronic chirping repeating in intervals of every second or so, somewhere in the room. “What is that?” she asked, getting off her stool to follow the noise. Her ears led her to one of the many piles of stuff ringing the room, and she shifted something aside (was that an  _ overturned table? _ ) to reveal… well, it was another mystery device, a sort of trapezoidal box, maybe a quarter as big as the plasma container, plugged into a socket on the wall with another of the serious-business cables that seemed to be everywhere in the lab. A red light on one of its overcomplicated surfaces was flashing in time to the chirping.

“Whoa whoa whoa, hey,” Steve said. “Henderson told us not to touch anything.”

“I’m not touching it,” Robin said. “Just looking. And he’s ‘Henderson’ now?”

“That--that’s what he told us to call him!”

Any cutting remarks Robin could’ve made in response were forgotten as she noticed something immediately underneath the flashing red light. “Uh, Steve?” she said, pointing.

Steve squatted down next to her and peered at it. “Oh,  _ shit _ ,” he said, eyes widening.

Robin tapped her combadge. “Buckley to Lieutenant Henderson.”

Dustin’s voice spoke back to her. “ _ Kinda busy here, Ensign. _ ”

“Yeah, it’s just, there’s something kinda weird going on with this other device you’ve got in the lab.”

“ _ Wha--I told you not to touch anything! _ ”

“We didn’t!” Steve protested, cutting in. “We just heard it making this sound at us, and now we’re looking at it and there’s this flashing red light that says  _ Danger _ underneath it--”

“ _ Wait, it says--?! _ ” Dusting gasped. “ _ Oh shit. Oh shit shit  _ shit.  _ You two need to-- _ ”

The rest of his warning got lost as the box began to buckle, bending in on itself--no,  _ space _ was bending in around it, lensing and twisting in a way that had Steve and Robin fixated on it even as they backed away as fast as they could--and then the implosion reversed and the box exploded outwards, releasing a pressure wave that knocked the two ensigns off their feet. As they tumbled, a dark shape flew through the air; there was the impression of something  _ moving _ , almost animal-like, limbs that might have been legs and a head that didn’t look like a proper head, and then the door slid open in response to something and the dark shape was out of the room and moving down the hallway.

Robin and Steve lay on the floor of the lab, stunned, unable to bring themselves to move until several minutes later when the door opened again and Dustin rushed into the lab.

“Oh no no no no no,” he babbled, looking around at the state of the lab. “Are you guys okay? Please tell me you’re okay, Mike’ll kill me if I got you hurt already--”

“As opposed to getting us hurt after a reasonable amount of time?” Robin asked from where she lay on the floor. The snark had come automatically, and for a breathless moment she realized that she’d just mouthed off to her superior officer, but Dustin just let out a sigh of relief.

“Okay, good. Jokes are good. Come on now,” he said, offering a hand and pulling first Robin and then Steve to their feet.

The door slid open yet another time to admit Will. “Oh for--” he said, stopping short as he saw the lab in even worse condition than he had left it. “What did you  _ do _ , Dustin?”

“Hey, this was on the level!” Dustin protested. “I told Mike I wanted to experiment with microsingularities and he said it was okay as long as I took precautions, and I did.”

Will put his hands on his hips. “So how did we get from there to  _ here _ ?” He indicated the state of the lab with a tilt of his head.

Dustin sucked in a long breath. “Wellllll… I think  _ maybe _ when I turned on the plasma container, the power drain might’ve compromised the device I was using to hold the microsingularity…”

“That would be the one that blew up in our faces?” Robin asked.

“Yeah… that one,” Dustin replied sheepishly.

“So what was up with the dog thing?” asked Steve. Everybody in the room turned to look at him. “What? You saw it too, right, Robin?”

“You mean that whatever-it-was that came out of it? Yeah,” said Robin. “What do you mean,  _ dog _ ?”

“Well… it kinda looked like one, right?”

“Wait wait wait. You’re telling me that something came  _ out _ of the singularity?” Dustin dove across the room into yet another pile of equipment, surfacing moments later with a tricorder. It beeped softly as he waved it around the room. “Whoa…” he murmured softly as he looked at the readings.

“Oh, great. Now what?” Will strode over to look over Dustin’s shoulder. “You  _ breached the dimensional barrier _ ?”

“The singularity must’ve briefly popped a hole open when it collapsed,” Dustin said, snapping the tricorder shut. “Oh man. I had no idea this was even possible!”

“Whoa, okay, hold on,” Steve said, holding up a hand. “What exactly do you mean by ‘dimensional barrier’?”

“It’s like…” Dustin gesticulated impatiently. “Parallel realities, you know? A universe where you forgot to eat breakfast this morning, a universe where you’re wearing leather pants…”

“A universe where you’re evil and have a beard,” Will added.

“That’s an oddly specific example,” Robin said.

Will glanced at her. “Old Starfleet logs make for interesting reading.”

“So you’re saying this… dog thing… is from another reality?” Steve said.

“Maybe,” Dustin said. “Or it could be from somewhere between realities. I never really studied multidimensional theory.”

“Regardless of where it’s from, it’s currently on the  _ Hawkins _ ,” Will pointed out. “We should probably focus on figuring out how we can track it down and capture it so that it doesn’t cause any problems.”

“And so that Mike doesn’t murder us,” Dustin added.

“So that Mike doesn’t murder  _ you _ , you mean.”

“Right,” Steve said. “So we just need to go catch an interdimensional dog thing, right? How hard can that be?   
  


- - -

“You’re  _ absolutely sure _ it’s somewhere in here?” Steve groaned as he hauled himself through a service duct.

“ _ I’m not ‘absolutely sure’ of anything, Ensign, _ ” Will’s voice replied from his combadge, “ _ but this is our best lead. It hasn’t been seen anywhere in the ship proper since that incident on the recreational deck. _ ”

“So you’re just sending the ensign on what might or might not be a pointless wild goose chase?”

“ _ That’s what ensigns are for. _ ” Steve could  _ hear _ the shit-eating grin in Will’s voice, the smug bastard. “ _ You’ll understand when you get promoted. _ ”

“ _ Steve’s never getting promoted, _ ” said Robin’s voice. “ _ He’s going to be an ensign until he retires as an old man. _ ”

“Thanks, Robin. Love you too.” A muffled noise from somewhere up ahead in the duct caught Steve’s attention. “Hold on. I think I might have something.”

“ _ Be careful, Harrington, _ ” Dustin said.

“Oh look, actual concern for my well-being,” Steve said as he crawled forward. “You know, you two could learn a lot from Henderson--” He trailed off. There  _ was  _ something up ahead in the duct. It was crouching on four distended legs, and it seemed to be staring back down the tube at him, though it was hard to tell given that it had no discernable eyes.

In his defense, it did look  _ kind of _ like a dog.

Then the thing’s head unfurled like a flower blooming, five toothy flaps surrounding a central maw. It let loose with a hissing, chittering sound, and in response Steve did the only thing that made logical sense to him: he screamed.

“ _ Ensign! _ ” “ _ Harrington! _ ” Will and Dustin’s panicked voices mingled on his comm, but Robin’s voice cut over them: “ _ Steve, you have a phaser! _ ”

Oh, right. Steve’s hand dropped to his waist, and he fumbled his phaser away from his belt as the thing began to rush toward him with disconcerting speed. With agonizing slowness, Steve managed to level the phaser--a burning sensation in his lungs made him realize that he was still screaming--and he let off a wild volley of shots. Steve wasn’t exactly a stellar or even average marksman, but in the current cramped conditions it was hard to miss, and the thing shrieked as several shots hit home. Scrambling, it swerved out of its charge to dart down a side junction, and Steve lunged into a parallel junction near him (smartly banging his head in the process). He threw his weight against a hatch at the end of the duct, realizing moments too late that he was at the  _ end _ of the duct, falling several feet to land in a heap on the deck. A handful of crew were standing around, startled by the sudden emergence of the dog-thing followed by Steve. They gaped as he lifted his phaser, firing several more shots at the dog-thing as it dashed down the hallway, none of which managed to hit.

“ _ Be careful! _ ” snapped Will. “ _ What setting do you have that on? _ ”

“Uh,” said Steve, belatedly checking the phaser as he picked himself up. It was set to ‘stun’. “Stun, obviously. What do you take me for? By the way, it’s on deck, uh…” He looked around him. Why the hell weren’t there any signs?

“ _ We know where you are, we’re tracking your combadge _ ,” said Dustin. “ _ Quick, go after it--I think we can head around and cut it off. _ ”

Nodding at the crew who were still gaping at him, Steve took off down the hallway at a sprint. The dog-thing wasn’t far ahead of him, and before long he’d chased it into a section of the ship that looked like it was used to store engineering components, judging by the intermittent piles of parts lying around. As the dog-thing turned and darted down a side hallway, Will, Dustin, and Robin suddenly burst into view in front of it--Dustin with his tricorder out, and Will and Robin with their phasers ready. They opened fire at the dog-thing, peppering the floor in front of it with stabs of light, and it whirled around and headed back for Steve, apparently judging him the lesser threat. Its flower-mouth-whatever furled open again, and it let loose with an earsplitting shriek that froze Steve in his tracks as it bore down on him.

“ _ Steve! _ ” Robin yelled.

Instinct took over. The phaser fell from Steve’s hand, and he lunged for one of the component piles near him. His hand closed around something, and as the dog-thing made a flying leap at him, he came up with a length of pipe capped with a heavy knob. He swung, and the pipe batted the dog-thing out of the air, slamming it into the wall on the other side of the hallway.

Letting out a shriek of his own, Steve lifted the pipe above his head, bringing it down on the dog-thing again and again. It was only after several moments of this that he became aware of a sound on the edge of his consciousness. “Steve.  _ Steve. Steve! _ ” Dustin’s voice.

Steve stumbled back, letting the pipe fall to the ground; Dustin stepped forward and knelt to examine the inert form of the dog-thing. “I think it’s dead,” he said softly, and looked back up at Steve. “Shit, Harrington, what did you do that for? It was basically an animal--it was probably just scared!”

“It was going to eat me!” Steve protested.

“We don’t know that.”

“Yeah, well, next time I’ll let it take a bite out of me first to make sure.” Steve looked over at Will and Robin, who were approaching cautiously, casting wary looks at the dog-thing’s corpse. “Look, the point is, we got it, right? It’s over.”

Dustin grimaced. “Well, not quite…”

- - -

The four of them stood anxiously at ease in front of Mike’s desk. Mike sat on the other side, scanning the contents of multiple datapads that were scattered across his desk, fingers pressed tightly against his temples. He was flanked off his left shoulder by Max, whose gaze was flicking back and forth between reading over Mike’s shoulder and casting disbelieving glances at the group in front of her.

“First things first,” Mike said at last. “Will, I think you should be standing on the other side of this desk.” Will gave Dustin a look that was half-apologetic and half-knowing as he complied, taking up a position off of Mike’s other shoulder. “Now,” Mike said, “about the incident reports I’ve been flooded with in the last two hours--”

“Sir,” Dustin interrupted. “Before you go on, I have something to say.”

Mike sagged, dropping his chin into his hand. “I’m sure you do, Mr. Henderson. Go ahead, lay your explanation on me.”

“I accept full responsibility for what occurred on the  _ Hawkins  _ today.”

“What?” Mike blinked and stared at Dustin as though he’d just announced that he was made of cheese. Max and Will had taken on similar expressions.

“I said, I take full responsibility. These two ensigns,” Dustin nodded to either side of him at Steve and Robin, respectively, “are not guilty of anything beyond helping to clean up my mess. Whatever punishments you might have in mind for them, I will accept on top of my own.”

Now  _ everybody _ in the room was gaping at Dustin. A long, awkward silence ensued, broken only by Mike coughing and pulling himself up to his full sitting height. “Then… you admit that you made mistakes here, and you intend to avoid doing so in the future?”

“That is correct, sir.”

Mike let out a long sigh. “Well, in light of that… I want you to write up a report, Mr. Henderson, thoroughly detailing what went wrong in your lab today and what preventative measures you intend to take from now on. You are not permitted to run any more experiments until you have completed this report to my satisfaction. Is that clear?”

“Crystal, sir.”

“Very well. Dismissed. Not you two,” Mike said to Steve and Robin as they turned to leave with Dustin. “I want to have a word.”

The two swallowed in unison as they turned around; Dustin shot them a sympathetic look as he exited the office.

When the door had shut behind him, Mike brought a hand up to his face, swiping over it with a drawn-out gesture. “That is,” he said, “the  _ first _ time I have ever seen Dustin take responsibility for anything going wrong in his lab. Can you remember that ever happening, Ms. Mayfield?”

“Hell no,” said Max. “That was absolutely surreal to see.”

“It seems to me,” added Will, “that being responsible for his own pair of ensigns is having a positive effect on Dustin.”

“That was my thought as well,” said Mike.

“You’re kinda making us sound like pets,” Robin said.

The three officers looked up at that, and Steve didn’t like the look of the humor that was glittering in their eyes. “At any rate,” Mike said. “I would like you two to remain on hand as Dustin’s assistants on a permanent basis, going forward. With your consent, of course.”

“I don’t know,” said Steve. “Are you sure you don’t have any latrine duty available?”

Identical looks of shock crossed the three officers’ faces.

Steve and Robin traded a look and burst out laughing. “Sorry, sir,” Steve chuckled. “Inside joke. We’d be happy to stay with Henderson… the Lieutenant, that is.”

“I… see,” Mike said, looking very much like he didn’t. “All right, then. You’re dismissed.”

Steve and Robin exited the room together, dissolving into silent fits of laughter as they moved into the hallway. “The look on their faces,” Robin gasped.

“Totally worth it,” Steve agreed. His laughter subsided and his expression grew more thoughtful. “We’ve really gotten ourselves into something here, haven’t we?”

Robin shrugged. “Like I said, at least it’s not boring.”

“True enough,” said Steve. “Come on, let’s get back to the lab.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, turns out there was a reason Steve and Robin were in the character tags!


	4. Terra Incognita

_ “Captain’s log: One of Starfleet’s long-range probes has discovered something, quote, ‘potentially of interest’, end quote, on the sixth planet in the uninhabited Steger system. Starfleet has assigned us to journey there and perform a followup survey to see what might be there to be found.” _

“So do you think they’re an item again?” Dustin asked. He, Mike, and Will were all seated around a table at one end of the  _ Hawkins’ _ canteen, carefully positioned to watch the other end, where Lucas and Max had taken a table to themselves and were currently deep in conversation with each other.

“They certainly weren’t shy about their feelings for each other back in the Academy,” Will said. “But a lot can change in a decade.”

Mike smiled to himself, remembering how Lucas had reacted when Max’s shuttle had gotten into trouble. “I don’t know,” he said aloud. “Remember that coin Lucas gave her when we graduated? She’s been carrying it around with her all these years as a good luck charm.”

“Oooo,” commented Dustin with a mischievous waggle of his eyebrows. “The tough and gritty Ms. Mayfield, carrying a torch?”

“Okay, but what do we know about their love lives since then?” Will asked. “Any old flames that might complicate our lovebirds’ little reunion here?”

Mike pursed his lips, thinking. “I know Max had a couple of flings when we were posted together on the  _ Anansi _ … I don’t think they were terribly serious, though she wouldn’t shut up about how amazing the Betazoid was in bed. If there’s been anything since then, she hasn’t mentioned it. As for Lucas…” He shrugged. “What can I say? The man’s a closed book when it comes to his love life. Like one of those old-fashioned diaries that lock.”

“You think he’s hiding something?” Dustin asked in a tone that was entirely too eager.

Will sipped at his raktajino. “If I had to guess,” he mused, “either he’s been pining over Max this entire time and doesn’t want to tell us because we’ll tease him for it… or he  _ did _ have something serious and he’s worried about it making it back to Max and making her jealous.”

“Why would she be jealous?” Dustin frowned. “Nearly a decade apart, not knowing when they’d be in the same place again… it’s not like they swore monogamy to each other or anything like that.”

“People are just like that sometimes,” Mike said, spreading his hands philosophically. “Love can be a very irrational thing.”

“Do you mind if I sit with you?” El’s voice said from behind him.

The three of them turned in their seats; El was standing there with what looked like a cup of tea cupped in her hands. “Not at all,” Mike said, and a brief sliding of seats to open up a spot for her ensued.

“Thank you,” she said with a small smile as she sat. “Might I ask why you’re all looking so intently at Commander Sinclair and Commander Mayfield?”

“Oh,” said Dustin. “We were just--”

“--gossiping,” Will finished mildly, taking another sip of his raktajino.

“We were  _ speculating _ on interpersonal dynamics among the senior staff,” said Mike, shooting Will a glare. “Which I’m sure you’ll agree is pertinent, given that I’m their commanding officer.”

“Of course,” agreed El, smile deepening. “And has your speculation yielded any… interesting conclusions?”

“They’re  _ totally _ into each other,” Dustin said.

“They’ve been into each other for years, that’s hardly news to anybody,” Mike said.

“It’s news to me,” El reminded him gently, and Mike flushed slightly. Of course, that had been terribly presumptuous of him. “Now the question is,” El continued, “what do you think  _ they’re _ speculating about?”

“What?” Mike looked back over at Lucas and Max. They’d apparently surfaced from their conversation and were looking back over at his table, wearing mischievous grins that Mike remembered all too well. As he watched, Max leaned over slightly and murmured something to Lucas, who laughed in response.

_ Okay, what gives? _ Before he had time to contemplate the question properly, his combadge chirped. “ _ Prasad to Captain Wheeler. _ ”

“Go ahead, Ms. Prasad.”

“ _ We’re about fifteen minutes out from the Steger system. _ ”

“Thank you, Ms. Prasad. I’ll be on the bridge momentarily.” Mike tapped his combadge to flip its channel. “Captain Wheeler to Sinclair and Mayfield. I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you two to wrap up your date and prepare for arrival.” At the mention of the word ‘date’ he was rewarded with the sight of the grins dropping off of Lucas’ and Max’s faces, replaced by flustered expressions.

“I should get ready too,” El said, rising to her feet along with Mike.

He waved a hand at her. “No, no, finish your tea. You’ve got the time.”

“You’re sure?” she asked, looking at him with an expression so concerned that it was almost adorable.

Mike smiled. “Promise. I’ll see you on the bridge, Lieutenant.”

- - -

Max took one last look over her phaser with a critical eye. It was fully charged and in good working order--at least as far as she could tell on that last score; Starfleet issue could be notoriously finicky. “Last call, team,” she said as she holstered it. “Once our liaison gets here we’ll be beaming right down, so make sure you’re ready.” The two crew members she’d picked from her security personnel for the away team, a human by the name of McKorkle and a Grazerite by the name of Amya-Lei, nodded acknowledgement.

The door to the transporter room opened and a man in a blue science uniform with a stylish wave of brown hair blundered in, trying and failing to look like he hadn’t just been sprinting through the hallways to make up for being late. “Hi there,” Steve panted. “Ensign--”

“--Steve Harrington, I remember,” Max replied. The last time they’d been face-to-face had been an official reprimand for one of Dustin’s many misadventures, something that Steve remembered all too well, if the stricken expression on his face was any indication. Max allowed him to twist awkwardly for a moment before flashing him a disarming smile. “Dustin speaks highly of you,” she said.

“Oh,” said Steve, relaxing visibly. “Well, that’s--”

“Dustin also speaks highly of Andorian venom bats, so you’ll pardon if I take that assessment with a grain of salt,” Max added, secretly reveling at the look of confusion this put on Steve’s face. It was good to keep the ensign on his toes--and a lot of fun besides. “I’m sure you’ll be fine, though,” she said. “Are you ready to go?”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Steve said, tugging at the straps on his shoulders. He was carrying a backpack that looked like it was crammed to the gills with who knew what, no doubt equipment Dustin had insisted on him bringing along. Max’s eyes swept over the rest of Steve and she briefly noted that he wasn’t carrying a phaser. For a moment she nearly commented on this--one couldn’t be too cautious on away missions, in her opinion--but then she recalled what she’d heard of his shooting skill, and she decided that it wasn’t worth making an issue of.

With that, Max stepped up onto the transporter platform, giving the rest of the away team their cue to assemble behind her. She looked at the transport technician, a serious-faced Andorian with lightly-curled antennae, and after trading curt nods with him to confirm that they were both ready, spoke a single word.

“Energize.”

The transporter room faded into a flare of white light, and Max felt the familiar disjointed sensation as her body briefly ceased to exist. Then the sensation and the light faded away, and she was standing in the dust of an alien planet.

“Damn, that is  _ so _ weird,” Steve muttered from behind her.

“Surely you’ve transported before,” McKorkle said.

“Yeah, but I never get used to it. I mean, if you think about it…”

Max ignored their ramblings, tapping her combadge to open a line to the ship. “Mayfield to  _ Hawkins _ ,” she said. “Away team is on the ground.”

“ _ Acknowledged, Ms. Mayfield, _ ” replied Mike. “ _ Target site should be less than half a kilometer from your position. _ ”

“Understood. Moving out.” Max turned her attention to Steve, who was still on some tangent about the philosophical implications of transporters. “Hey. Science boy,” she said, snapping her fingers at him to get his attention. “Tricorder?”

“Huh? Oh, right,” he said. He reached backwards into his bag and fished out the tricorder, then popped it open and peered at the screen. “All right, let’s see… the target site is…” He spun on his heel and pointed. “This way.”

They marched, Steve and his tricorder leading the way, Max following a few steps behind him, and McKorkle and Amya-Lei bringing up the rear. Though habitable enough that they could walk on its surface without life support, Steger VI was a desolate planet, with nothing beyond blowing dust and crags of rock as far as Max could see.  _ Class L, the nice way of saying ‘kind of a shithole.’  _ And yet apparently there was  _ something _ worth seeing on this barren world…

“There,” Steve said, pointing. “The sensor anomaly was in that region.”

The place he was pointing to didn’t look much different from the scenery around them, a small butte worn low and rounded by thousands of years of scouring wind. The only remarkable thing Max could see was a yawning opening to some sort of cavern at its base. Which would suggest… “Mayfield to  _ Hawkins _ ,” she said, tapping her badge again. “We’ve got the target zone in sight. I’m thinking that whatever we were picking up might be underground.”

“ _ That would explain why the sensors had a hard time analyzing it _ ,” El said. “ _ Can you get a closer look? _ ”

“Can a Tharlian burrowdigger dig a burrow?” Max asked, grinning. She waved the team forward and they advanced towards the cavern, scrambling over rocks and gravel as the terrain grew rougher. The ground only extended for a couple of dozen meters into the cave before dropping off; peering down into the darkness, Max could only make out bits and pieces where the scarce light filtering into the cave struck outcroppings. “All right,” she said, as much to herself as to the rest of her team. “Looks like we’re in for some hardcore spelunking here.”

“ _ ...der Mayf… can… ear me? Com… _ ” her badge crackled at her.

Signaling to the team to stay where they were, Max turned and jogged out of the cave into the open air. “Say again,  _ Hawkins _ ?” she asked. “I didn’t catch that.”

“ _ Which segues nicely into my point, _ ” replied El. “ _ The mineral composition of that cavern is interfering with the signal from your combadge. If you go much further in, we’re going to lose you completely. _ ”

“Gotcha.” Less than ideal circumstances there, but not insurmountable. “Okay, I’m going to have the team go in and take a quick look around,” Max said. “If we’re not back out in… an hour, send in a search party.”

“ _ Understood, Ms. Mayfield, _ ” said Mike. “ _ Good luck. _ ”

“Don’t worry about me, Captain,” Max replied with a grin. “I make my own luck.” She went back into the cave; McKorkle and Amya-Lei had taken up watch positions, while Steve was at the edge of the drop-off, buried in his tricorder. “We’re going to be dark once we go down there,” Max announced. “That means no emergency beam-outs until we’re back on the surface. I want everybody playing it safe.” McKorkle and Amya-Lei nodded understanding. “Getting anything, Ensign?” Max added, directing the question at Steve.

“I’m… not sure,” Steve said, frowning at the tricorder. “I mean, I’ve got a basic outline of the cave system, but the structures are so  _ regular _ … I’d almost call them artificial.”

“You think these might be  _ ruins _ ?” asked Max, lifting an eyebrow.

“Maybe,” said Steve as he shut the tricorder. “Hard to say for sure until we actually get down there.”

Max nodded. “Then what are we waiting for?”

They unpacked the climbing gear from the exploration kit they had brought with them. Max was the first over the edge, rappelling down with practiced ease. After about six or seven meters, her feet hit ground. “I’m down!” she called. She heard the sounds of somebody else mounting the line above her as she turned to scan the cavern, darkness illuminated by the lamp she’d strapped around her forehead. There were random outcroppings jutting out all over the place; definitely made of the same rock as the rest of the cavern, but with their surfaces smoothed out and turning at regular angles, Max couldn’t help but be put in mind of the remains of  _ walls _ …

“Oof!” Steve said behind her as he landed on the ground in a heap.

Max looked back at him. “You alright there, Ensign?”

“Fine!” he said, springing up to his feet. “I’m fine. Just, uh, this kind of stuff was not exactly my forte in the Academy.”

_ That’s fairly obvious, _ Max thought. “Just don’t die on me, okay? That’s a bureaucratic headache that I don’t need.” She waved him forward and indicated the outcroppings that she’d been looking at. “See those? I think you might’ve been onto something earlier.”

“Whoa,” Steve said, taking out his tricorder again. McKorkle landed behind them as Steve ran his analysis. “Wow, yeah, okay. Molecular composition is the same as the rest of the cavern, but the structure is…  _ altered _ , like…” he waved one hand as if trying to conjure the right words out of the air, “...compressed, reinforced. Almost like shaping clay, only somebody did it with solid rock.”

Max looked around at the network of outcroppings-- _ walls _ \--around them. “That’s not a low-tech proposition,” she commented.

“No,” agreed Steve. “Unless they had some really crazy natural abilities, whoever did this was pretty advanced.”

“But there’s no trace of them on the planet’s surface,” said Max. “Maybe their civilization was subterranean?”

“Or maybe something happened to wipe out everything on the surface, and this is all that’s left of them.”

“That’s a cheerful thought.”

Steve shrugged. “What can I say, I’m an optimist. But you saw the shape the surface was in, right? Maybe it’s always been like that… or maybe this was a Class M planet, a long time ago.”

Max suppressed a shudder. The thought of what it would take to reduce a Class M planet to this state was horrifying, but also disturbingly plausible. Earth itself had been on the brink of such a catastrophe, centuries ago. “Well, maybe we’ll find some answers deeper in,” she said. Amya-Lei had descended during their conversation, bringing the entire away team down into the cavern. Max pointed at an opening on the far wall--a tunnel that looked too round and regular to be natural. “That looks like a promising direction.”

They trudged onwards, into the tunnel and through it as it sloped gently downwards, deeper into the ground. After some time, the tunnel opened up into another large cavern--this one some sort of hub, with more tunnels spaced at regular intervals around the walls. That wasn’t what took Max’s breath away, though.

“Holy shit,” Steve breathed behind her.

Lying in the center of the hub-cavern was… well, Max’s first thought was of a statue, something hewn and shaped from the rock the same way that the walls had been. It was in the shape of a central sphere, easily three or four meters in diameter, with four appendages extending from its sides at ninety degree angles from each other, lying limp on the ground ( _ limp _ , almost as though they were somehow articulated). Steve was already rushing forward, tricorder at the ready, scanning the inert form. “Oh man,” he chuckled to himself. “Henderson is gonna  _ flip _ about this.”

“What’ve we got, Ensign?” Max asked, approaching rather more cautiously.

“I mean, it’s the same rock stuff as before, but this is so much more… I mean, there’s this crystal stuff embedded in it, all these little lines, like… is this some kind of  _ circuitry _ ?” Steve laughed again, the gleeful enthusiasm reminding Max unsettlingly of Dustin. “Oh, this is so cool.”

“Commander!” Amya-Lei’s voice cut through the quiet, clear and urgent. Max looked up; an amber light had appeared on the thing’s spherical body, and was pulsing in a steady rhythm. There was the sound of something scraping against rock, and Max reacted on instinct, dashing forward to seize Steve, hurling them to ground just as something whipped through the air where they had been standing a moment prior. Max rolled to get her limbs under her and regained her grip on Steve, dragging him aside as he babbled in fear and confusion. Above them, the spheroid thing was hauling itself up, standing on the four appendages ( _ articulated after all _ ) like legs. “Cover!” Max bellowed.

Phaser fire flashed out in bright stabs as McKorkle and Amya-Lei fired on the move, but the shots simply splattered against the spheroid’s hard exterior with no visible effect. Or no  _ adverse _ effect, rather; Max spotted another patch of light along its surface igniting in response, quickly moving up from deep red through orange and yellow to a bright, searing white. She opened her mouth to call out a warning, too late. A blinding flash lit up the cavern, and Max heard McKorkle scream in pain. 

Coming to a sizable chunk of rock, Max hauled Steve and herself behind it, pressing her back up against the improvised cover as she worked to control her breathing. The cavern floor shuddered as the spheroid stomped around in an erratic pattern. Then the vibrations began to fade; Max risked a glance above the rock and saw that it the spheroid was headed up one of the tunnels that ringed the chamber.

Not just  _ any _ tunnel--the one they’d come down. Max cursed under her breath. They were going to have to get past it if they wanted to get out.

“Wha--wha--wha--” Steve was attempting to speak between hyperventilating breaths. Max glanced over him to make sure that he wasn’t injured, then turned to call out into the cavern. “Amya-Lei!”

“Here,” Amya-Lei replied in a tense voice. 

Max popped up from her position and darted in the direction of the sound. “Are you all right?” she asked as she approached where Amya-Lei was sheltering behind a large boulder.

“I’m fine,” Amya-Lei said. “But McKorkle…” She was cut off by a groan from McKorkle, and Max sucked in a breath as the light from her headlamp fell over the crewman’s form. He’d taken no more than a glancing blow from whatever the spheroid had shot at him, but it had been enough to sear the flesh from his shoulder and upper arm, leaving a charred, bloody mess behind.

“Not as bad as it looks,” McKorkle said between gasps. “Still conscious… not sure if that’s a good or bad thing right now.” He laughed weakly.

“Aw, shit.” Steve had apparently recovered from his shock, because he came from behind Max and went straight to McKorkle’s side. “All right, take it easy. I’ve got you. Here…” He fished a hypospray from his bag and shot it into McKorkle’s neck; the injured crewman immediately relaxed and his breathing eased up. Having done that, Steve pulled another device out and began spraying something onto McKorkle’s injury.

“So, obvious question,” Amya-Lei said. “What the hell was that?”

“Looked like some kind of automaton,” Max replied, eyes still on McKorkle. “Or maybe an exotic life-form… the last survivor of our mystery civilization?”

“I don’t know,” said Steve as he continued his ministrations. “The way it just took off without checking to see if it had actually gotten us… it seemed pretty dumb. Maybe like a combat robot, or something on that level.”

Max frowned. “Well, whatever it is, it’s currently between us and our way out.”

“We can wait it out,” Steve said, replacing his device in his bag. “I mean, it’s not gonna wait up there forever, right? It’ll go off somewhere else, or maybe go inert again, and we can just slip out unnoticed.”

“Maybe you’re right about that, but there’s one big problem,” said Max. “How long have we been down here for?”

“Uh…” Steve checked his tricorder. “Just over forty minutes.”

Max nodded grimly. “Which means we have just under twenty minutes until the  _ Hawkins _ sends somebody down to come looking for us.”

“Oh.” Steve’s eyes widened in sudden understanding. “Oh crap.”

“Yep. And with comms cut off, we have no way to warn them. We were lucky enough to get through our run-in alive… they might not have the same luck.” 

“What do we do, then?” Amya-Lei asked. “Our phasers do nothing to it, and we’ll be sitting ducks if we try to climb back out while it’s up there… especially given that one of us will be having to haul McKorkle with us. No offense,” she added, looking down at him.

“None taken,” McKorkle replied weakly.

“Just give me a minute to think,” Max said. She got to her feet and paced back and forth, running scenarios through her mind. All of them ended in the probable death of at least one crew member.  _ Come on _ , she told herself.  _ There’s a way. There’s got to be a way. _

In the end, it was Steve who spoke first. “The tricorder,” he said simply.

Max stopped pacing and turned to look at him. “What?”

“The tricorder,” he repeated. “The sphere-automaton thing… it didn’t react when we first came in here, it reacted when I started scanning it with the tricorder. I think that was what woke it up.”

Max ran over the memory in her mind. He was right. “Okay, so what do we do with that?”

“Well, say I crank up the scan--like, to absolute maximum,” Steve said. “If it is responding to the signal, that’ll catch its attention for sure. We can use it as, like, a distraction. I can run around with the tricorder and keep it occupied while you guys climb out. Then, I don’t know, I throw the tricorder somewhere and you can pull me up while it goes to check it out.”

“That’s an  _ absurd _ risk,” Max said.

“It’s not that bad,” Steve said. “All I need to do is run. I’m good at running. Besides, I think it’s the best risk we’ve got.”

Max clenched her jaw. She couldn’t argue with that assessment, as much as she wanted to. “Fine,” she said. “But I told you not to die on me, and I meant it. McKorkle, are you okay to move?”

“Like I have much of a choice here,” McKorkle said. Amya-Lei helped him to his feet, his good arm wrapped around her shoulders for support. “I’ll put up with just about anything right now if it gets me up to sickbay.”

“Fair enough,” Max said. “Okay, let’s go.”

- - -

The spheroid was in the chamber they’d come in through to begin with, standing utterly still as though waiting for something. Max didn’t dare hope that it had shut back down. On the other end of the chamber, she could just make out the line of the cable they’d used to lower themselves down from the cavern entrance.  _ So close, and yet… _

Steve was beside her, nervousness palpable as he cradled the tricorder in his hands. He looked at Max, awaiting her signal; Max in turn looked behind her at Amya-Lei and McKorkle. McKorkle’s face was drawn and set in an expression that was equal parts pain and determination. Amya-Lei looked back and Max and gave her a single nod.

They were as ready as they were ever going to be.

Max gestured, and Steve hit a button on the tricorder, and it lit up with a chirp. The spheroid’s reaction was nearly instantaneous; it lurched and began to barrel towards them.

“Oh,” said Steve in a high voice. “That worked.”

“ _ Go! _ ” Max shouted.

Steve didn’t have to be told twice. He set off at a dead sprint, moving away from the others along the wall of the chamber. The spheroid swerved, changing its path to follow him. Max forced herself to tear her gaze away.  _ You have to trust him now. Trying to micromanage him will just get him killed. _ She focused on the distant cable instead.

“Okay,” she breathed. “Now!”

Amya-Lei pressed forward, moving as fast as she could with the extra weight she was carrying. McKorkle did his best to help with the pace, but his legs buckled and stumbled as the duo moved, slowing them down nonetheless. Max kept pace with them, willing herself to move at their speed even as her instincts screamed at her to run with all her might. A quick glance back at the spheroid showed her that it was stumbling over the wall remains that crisscrossed the chamber. Apparently it lacked either the ability or the willingness to break through them, and having to step around and over them slowed it down considerably. The sight buoyed her heart, and she hoped that Steve would be able to keep it up for just a little bit longer.

After a truly agonizing stretch of time, they reached the cable. “You two go first,” Max said in a tone that allowed for no argument. McKorkle wrapped his arms around Amya-Lei as securely as he could, even as he whimpered slightly at the pressure it put on his wound, and Amya-Lei began to climb, letting her breath in and out in deep gasps as she hauled the weight of two people up the rope. Max boosted her as far as she could, then held the rope steady at the bottom until Amya-Lei had finally scrambled over the lip of the drop-off, hauling herself and McKorkle up to relative safety with one last burst of strength before they both flopped on the ground, all but spent.

There was another shuddering impact from behind Max, and she heard Steve yelp in terror. Max forced herself not to look, instead mounting the cable herself and pulling herself up as fast as she possibly could. It wasn’t until she’d planted her feet at the top that she allowed herself to turn around. The spheroid was still rampaging awkwardly around the chamber, and although Max couldn’t see Steve, she could still hear him cry out every few moments when one of the spheroid’s blows hit too close. “Ensign, get out of there!” Max yelled into her combadge. A moment passed, and then Max saw something glitter through the air in a high arc. The spheroid followed its progress, swerving around and attempting to pounce on it as it clattered back to the ground. Then Max saw Steve, pelting across the floor of the cavern and making a beeline for the cable. “Come on, come on, come on…” she muttered to herself.

The spheroid had begun a strange sort of hopping, stomping dance. Max had no idea what it thought it was hitting--if  _ thought _ was even the right word for it--but as Steve made the bottom of the cable, she saw it stop, pausing over whatever whatever was left of the tricorder, before lurching back towards the cavern entrance--towards  _ them _ . “Shit,” she hissed. “Amya-Lei, pull!” She began to haul on the cable, eliciting a yelp of surprise from Steve as he was suddenly tugged upwards, and she felt the cable pull taut behind her as Amya-Lei grabbed on and began to pull as well. As they both pulled together, Max’s eyes flicked back to the spheroid, and her stomach dropped into her feet as she saw an all-too-familiar light blaze to life on its surface.

_ Red… orange… yellow… _

Driving herself backwards with her feet, Max hauled Steve the final meter up and over the edge of the drop-off. Before he could even begin to say anything to thank her, she wrapped her arms around him and threw them both to the ground, laying herself as flat as possible and shoving Steve flat as well with one arm.

_ ...white. _

Max’s skin prickled as the air above her exploded into heat. For a terrible moment she wondered if her flesh was being burnt away the same way McKorkle’s had been, but when the heat subsided in the next moment and no pain came, she shoved herself to her feet, pulling Steve up with her. “ _ Go-go-go-go-go-go! _ ” she shouted, and she saw Amya-Lei rise and pull up McKorkle from where they’d been lying prone as well. 

The four of them ran for the cavern entrance as they had never ran before. Max felt the fresh air whip into her face as they crossed out into the open--

\--and she nearly bowled directly into Lucas.

“Holy--!” he yelled, leaping back before he realized it was her. “Max, are you--?”

Max couldn’t get her brain to form words, so she settled for simply throwing herself at him and wrapping her arms around him in a tight embrace. She felt his arms wrap around her in turn, and for a second they just stood there together, basking in the relief of their reunion.

But there were still things to take care of. Max broke out of the embrace, stepping back away from Lucas and hitting her combadge. “ _ Hawkins _ , emergency medical transport,” she said. “I need McKorkle beamed directly to sickbay.”

“ _ Confirmed, Commander, _ ” El replied, and Max felt a surge of gratitude at the lack of even a moment’s hesitation. “ _ Doctor Ouvens, be advised, you have wounded incoming… _ ”

There was a flash of light accompanied by a high-pitched sound, and McKorkle vanished to the safety of the  _ Hawkins _ ’ sickbay.

“You’re in a state,” Lucas commented as he eyed Max. 

That was a fair assessment--she had no doubt she was scraped, bruised, and generally extremely mussed up at the moment. “So you’re the rescue party, then?” she asked as the security personnel accompanying Lucas stepped forward to check on Amya-Lei and Steve.

Lucas shrugged. “Just performing my duty as first officer.”

“Oh really?” she asked, giving him a wry smile. “Because it would be so  _ romantic _ if you were worried enough to come riding to my rescue, my  _ hero _ …”

“Shut up,” said Lucas, unable to contain a smile of his own. It faded away quickly, though, his eyes looking over Max’s disheveled state again. “Seriously, though--what the hell did you all run into down there?”

“Oh,  _ that’s _ going to be a wild debriefing,” Max said. “You wouldn’t believe--”

“Oh,  _ shit! _ ” Steve said loudly, causing Max to whirl around, hand dropping to the phaser at her waist. “That tricorder had all my readings on it--I didn’t even think about that!”

Max pulled in a long breath to steady her suddenly jangled nerves. “Are you  _ seriously _ worried about that right now?”

“Dustin’s gonna kill me,” Steve said miserably.

Max’s lungs twitched, and suddenly she was doubled over, laughing uproariously. Then Amya-Lei started laughing, and then Lucas, and then the other members of the rescue squad, and even Steve himself started to laugh.

“Tell you what,” Max said between breaths as the laughter died away. “He tries to give you grief, let me know and I’ll come and personally set him straight.”

“Sounds good,” Steve agreed.

Max felt Lucas’s hand on her shoulder. “All right,” he said. “Let’s get everyone back up to the  _ Hawkins _ . I think you’re all in need of a good rest.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it was about time we got down to a planet, right? A little bit of away team action for you here.
> 
> Also, I've started working on a side project that's a bit more of a straight-up Stranger Things fic. (Don't worry, keeping Stranger Trek updated regularly is still my main priority.) Go and check it out, if you're so inclined!


	5. My Mind To Your Mind

“Captain, I’m picking up…” El frowned at her console. “...something.”

The uncharacteristic imprecision of her statement caught Mike’s attention, and he stirred from his slouch in the captain’s chair. “Can you elaborate on that, Ms. Hopper?” he asked. It was something of a stupid question--he knew El well enough by now to know that she would’ve volunteered specifics up front if she had them--but he was in the middle of a monotonous bridge shift which was itself in the middle of a monotonous patrol mission, and at this point he was going to take any diversion that presented itself.

“Just a lot of incongruous details,” El replied with a frustrated sigh. “It’s some sort of free-floating stellar object… small, smaller even than the  _ Hawkins _ .”

“I’m going to assume that you’re not reporting because you picked up an asteroid on the scanner,” Mike said. El glared at him over her shoulder; Mike smiled at her to show that he was kidding and was rewarded with a flash of a quickly-hidden smile of her own as she turned back to her console.

“If it is an asteroid, it’s the strangest one I’ve ever seen,” she said. “To begin with… it appears to be composed entirely of organic matter.”

Mike sucked in a breath. “That  _ is _ strange.”

“Do you think it’s a life-form of some kind?” Max asked from the tactical station.

“Spaceborne life-forms aren’t unheard of, but…” El shrugged. “It’s hard to say much more without a closer scan.”

“Then let’s get a closer scan,” Mike said. “Ms. Prasad, bring us in… gently. If it has any awareness of its surroundings, then we don’t want to spook it.”

“Aye, sir,” replied Kali. “Dropping to one-quarter impulse and laying in an intercept course.”

“Get me a visual on-screen,” Mike said.

The main screen flickered to life, and an awed hush fell over the bridge. Pictured there, magnified for maximum visibility, was something unlike anything Mike had ever seen before. A node pulsed softly in the vacuum, made of something that looked like leathery flesh, but with an opalescent sheen that caused a staggering array of colors to shift and play along its surface. Surrounding the node was a halo of tendrils, splitting off from each other in a series of perfect fractals that were almost hypnotizing to follow. The object floated along with an unhurried serenity, putting Mike in mind of a jellyfish drifting in an ocean current.

“It’s beautiful,” Max whispered.

Mike rose unthinking to his feet, as though his legs were working of their own accord. Max was right, it was beautiful-- _ enthralling _ , even--but there was something more to it, something that was itching at his brain. He took one step down from the captain’s chair, and then another.

It was ridiculous, but…

He could swear that it was  _ looking _ at him.

A soft breeze pulled at Mike’s hair, stealing the warmth from his face. The night had grown cold, but he stubbornly pulled his coat closer to him and kept his gaze fixed up at the sky. The cold nights were also the ones where the stars were most clearly visible, and it was a trade he was only too happy to make.

“Mike!” called an all too familiar gruff voice. “Mike, get in here!”

Mike scowled as his heart sank. Of course, the unfair thing about being twelve was that it wasn’t always his choice.

“ _ Michael Wheeler! _ ” Mike stubbornly stayed where he was as the voice grew more insistent. Before long, though, he heard footsteps on the grass behind him. “Seriously, Mike? Stargazing again?”

“I like the stars,” Mike muttered, but the argument was too well-worn for the protest to be more than half-hearted.

Ted Wheeler let out a long-suffering sigh, as though his son’s interest in the heavens had been calculated to irritate him personally. “All right, inside. It’s too damn cold to be out here looking up like a damn idiot.”

Dozens of retorts sprang up in Mike’s head, but he knew that letting any of them out would only get him grounded. So instead, he dragged himself up to his feet and, moving as slowly as he thought he could get away with, crossed the lawn over to where his dad was standing.

“That’s more like it,” Ted said. He turned and went up the walk to the front door of the house without checking behind him even once, clearly assuming that Mike would follow him automatically. To Mike’s chagrin, he was right. “I know you’re young,” he said, pausing at the door. “You’ve got all that romantic stuff about adventure in the far reaches of the quadrant poured into your head. But you’re gonna learn that there’s plenty to focus on right here on Earth. You can’t live your entire life with your head in the stars.”

Mike didn’t say anything in reply. It was true that, at twelve, there were a lot of things that he didn’t know. He didn’t know how to talk to someone when his brain started telling him that maybe he was interested in kissing them, instead. He didn’t know why the Romulans insisted on being mean when it was obvious that it’d be so much better to be friends. He didn’t know how to make sense of the numbers they said on the news when they were talking about some battle or disaster that had happened in one of the wilder parts of the galaxy. But there was one thing that he did know, for sure.

He knew that his father was wrong. And he was going to prove it, someday.

- - -

Nobody reacted for a breathless moment when Mike collapsed to the floor, and then the bridge exploded into activity.

“ _ Mike! _ ” Max yelled, dashing forward from the tactical station at almost exactly the same time that El cried “ _ Captain! _ ” and leaped up from the operations station. Kali was halfway up from her seat as well, a stunned and horrified expression on her face that was mirrored on the faces of the crew all around the bridge. Max dropped into a crouch next to Mike, pulling his wrist from his sleeve and placing two fingers against it; El arrived a moment later and leaned over him, face turned so that her cheek was less than an inch from his mouth.

“He’s breathing, and steadily,” El reported, voice tight.

“Pulse is on the low end of normal,” Max said in a similar tone. She looked up at the viewscreen, where the unidentified object was still drifting serenely. “What the hell just happened? Did that thing do this to him, somehow?”

“It’s a possibility,” El said, shooting a glance of her own at it. “But we should have Doctor Ouvens examine him before we jump to any conclusions.”

Max nodded and tapped her combadge. “This is Commander Mayfield,” she said. “I need emergency transport to sickbay for Captain Wheeler. Let Doctor Ouvens know that he’s got incoming.”

“ _ The captain--?! _ ” replied a shocked voice. “ _ I mean, yes sir, right away. _ ” Mike’s prone form vanished in a haze of light.

“I’ll hold down the bridge,” Max said, looking El in the eye. “Get in contact with Lu--with Commander Sinclair and tell him what’s happened. He’ll want to get to sickbay immediately.”

“Right away,” El agreed. She rose to her feet in one smooth motion and strode out of the bridge. “Hopper to Commander Sinclair, there’s been an incident…”

Max rose from where she had been crouching, crossed over to the captain’s chair, and settled herself down into it. “Operations, give me a full scan. I want to know everything we can find out about this object, as quickly as possible.” She fixed the object on the screen with a ferocious look.

- - -

“Mike, honey, I know your father can be… inflexible,” Karen Wheeler was saying. They were alone together in the car, Mike having been dragged along for weekend errands. “I know that it makes him hard to get along with sometimes. But…” She trailed off, seemingly unsure of how to finish the thought.

“But what?” Mike asked with the boldness of a frustrated teenager. “Mom, it’d be one thing if he did all this because he thought it’d be good for me, but that’s not what it is, and you know it. He just… doesn’t care.” His voice dropped to a miserable murmur. “He doesn’t care what I want.”

His mother flicked a glance in his direction, torn between the need to watch the road and the desire to look her son in the face. “Then, Mike… what do you what?”

The question made Mike’s heart thump uncomfortably. It wasn’t as if he’d never told anyone--Nancy had managed to wheedle the answer out of him some time ago--but telling either of his parents was a different prospect altogether. “I…” he began, before taking a deep breath and turning away to look out the window. “I want to join Starfleet.”

There was a long silence. “Your father would say you’re being foolish,” his mother said softly.

Mike’s stomach clenched. “Yeah.”

“So we won’t tell him.”

Mike’s head whipped around and he stared at his mother in shock. “Really?”

His mother nodded, her face set in an expression of determination that Mike couldn’t remember ever seeing before. “Really. More than anything, honey, I want you to be happy, and if this is what will do that…” She sighed. “We can’t hide it from him forever, of course, but for now, just tell me if you need my help and we’ll keep it between us, all right?”

“Yh…” Mike’s voice was suddenly gone, blocked by a lump that had formed in his throat. His vision blurred as tears welled up, and he quickly turned back to the window even though he knew his mother must have seen them already. “Thanks, mom,” he said hoarsely.

He felt his mother’s hand squeeze his shoulder, and they made the rest of the drive in warm silence.

- - -

“Please tell me you have something, Doctor,” Lucas said as Doctor Ouvens straightened up from his examination.

Sighing, Doctor Ouvens replied, “At the risk of sounding flippant, Commander, the only thing that’s wrong with the Captain is that he isn’t awake.”

Lucas crossed his arms and glared at him. “So, what, he just randomly fell asleep on his feet? Is that what you’re telling me here?”

“I don’t know  _ what _ to tell you, Commander,” Doctor Ouvens said. “I’ve looked at every single thing I can think of. He’s displaying physiological patterns consistent with REM sleep in humans. Beyond that, there’s nothing out of the ordinary. It’s like he’s just… gone.”

“No,” El said quietly.

The two men turned. El was standing by Mike’s bed, gazing down at his face with sharp focus. “I’m sorry, what was that?” Doctor Ouvens asked.

El shook her head. “He’s not gone. He’s still in there, I can feel him. He’s just… trapped, somehow, inside himself.”

_ She can ‘feel’ him? _ Lucas remembered how El had been able to find Max, drifting in a dead shuttle hidden from the  _ Hawkins _ ’ sensors. “If he’s trapped… can you, I don’t know, reach in and pull him out?” he asked.

“I don’t know.”

_ Then what are you even good for? _ Lucas wanted to scream at her, but he bit the outburst back, closing his eyes and drawing in a deep breath. He was worried, anxious for the safety of his captain and one of his closest friends. Taking that out on El would be both counterproductive and unkind.

When he opened his eyes, El was pulling a stool up to Mike’s bed.

“I thought you said--”

“I said I didn’t know if I could do it,” El replied, laying her fingers gently across Mike’s temples. “That doesn’t mean I’m not going to try.”

- - -

Ted Wheeler sat at the kitchen table, reading over the letter, his face an impenetrable mask. Mike stood a few feet away, next to the doorway, willing himself to stand up straight, his hands firmly at his sides, expression set as neutral as he could keep it. He wasn’t going to show any fear, not here, not now.

“So,” Ted said at last, tossing the letter onto the tabletop. “Starfleet Academy? And when exactly were you planning to tell me about this?”

_ When it was too late for you to do anything about it. _ “Right now,” Mike answered out loud.

Ted sighed deeply. “Almost a grown man, and still chasing the stars? I’m disappointed in you, Mike.”

The words passed through Mike, and he felt something inside him blow open in response. “I don’t care,” he said quietly.

“What was that?” asked Ted, looking sharply at him.

“I said I don’t  _ care _ .” Mike’s hands curled into fists, his jaw clenched, but there was no stopping what was pouring out of him now. “I was never going to make you happy, the only thing that was ever going to make you happy was if I gave up and became as dull and unimaginative as you, and I’d rather  _ die _ than do that, so I just don’t care, I don’t  _ care _ , I’m going to Starfleet Academy and I don’t  _ care  _ if you’re disappointed in me, I don’t  _ care _ if you never speak to me again, you  _ miserable old man _ \--” Mike drew in a shuddering gasp as his brain caught up with the words he was saying.

Ted was staring at him, dumbfounded, suddenly more open and vulnerable than Mike had ever seen him, and-- _ hurt _ ? But the moment passed quickly, and the look in his eyes grew cold and hard again. Without another word, Ted got up from his chair and left the room.

“That must have been hard,” El’s voice said beside Mike.

Mike yelped; where a moment ago there had been only empty air now stood El, in full uniform as if she had just stepped off the bridge. “Lieutenant Hopper?” he asked shakily. This wasn’t right, he wasn’t going to meet El for another twelve years--

But how did he know that?

“Captain--” El said, looking at him.

“Will. Will Byers,” Will said.

“Huh?” Mike said, blinking in confusion. Of course--he’d found the young man sitting by himself in the academy cafeteria, and now Will was introducing himself. “Er, sorry. Mike, Mike Wheeler.” He held his hand out to Will, who shook it. “Would you like to be friends, Will?”

Will laughed. “You’re very straightforward, aren’t you?”

“So I’m told,” Mike replied, smiling shyly. “It’s just, this is my first time living away from home, and I don’t know anyone here, so…”

“I would be happy to be your friend, Mike.”

“This is how you met Commander Byers,” El said. “I see… but why? Is this important somehow?”

“Important?” Mike asked, frowning. The background chatter in the cafeteria had suddenly become distorted, as though he were hearing it from the other end of a long tunnel. El was sitting on the far side of the table from him and Will. “Lieutenant, how can you be here? I don’t know you… I mean, I  _ shouldn’t _ know you… I mean…”

“I know why I’m here,” El said. There was a note of urgency in her voice. “What we need to know, Captain, is why  _ you’re _ here.”

“And  _ there _ ,” Dustin said, pointing, “is 40 Eridani. A triple star system, most notably home to 40 Eridani A, also known as the Vulcan home system.”

“Did you memorize the entire star chart, you dork?” Max asked, giggling. Mike was lying on his back in the grass, arranged in a circle with Dustin, Max, Lucas, and Will, all of them gazing up at the night sky. The San Francisco hillside had become a favorite spot of theirs, near by the academy but far enough from any major sources of light that the stars were clearly visible at night.

“Well excuse me for having initiative,” Dustin said. “It’s useful knowledge. You’ll change your tune when I’m in charge of my own starship and the rest of you are still a bunch of lowly peons.”

Everybody laughed at that, Dustin included (and for some reason, Mike found the idea of Dustin making captain before him  _ especially _ funny). “You’re still a dork,” Max said. “That doesn’t change just because you’re a  _ smart _ dork.”

“A smart dork, huh?” Dustin asked, glowing at the (typically backhanded) compliment. As much as he tried to hide it, it was obvious to Mike that he was crushing pretty hard on Max. Thinking about it gave Mike a twinge of sadness; despite Dustin’s efforts to put on a brave face, he was going to take it pretty hard when Max and Lucas started officially dating in a couple of months.

Mike sat bolt upright.

There he was again, thinking about the future as if it had already happened.

“Are these… memories…?” he asked.

“That’s what I’ve been assuming,” said El. She was standing above him, framed in the soft light that was filtering down from the stars. “Do you remember how you got here, captain?”

“We… we walked from the academy grounds…”

“No, not like--I mean, in the other direction.” El’s lips pursed in frustration. “You… remember who I am, right?”

“Lieutenant Eleven Hopper,” Mike said. “You’re my operations officer… on the  _ Hawkins _ …” The information was coming to him naturally, and yet his attempts to piece it together into a larger picture were only giving him a faint, foggy impression. “I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I,” El said. She crouched down to Mike’s level and held out a hand in invitation. “Do you want to figure it out together?”

Mike nodded, and put his hand in hers.

- - -

“The unidentified life-form is broadcasting some kind of psionic frequency,” said Dustin. He was standing on one side of the ready room’s briefing table. Across from him was Lucas, who couldn’t bring himself to take Mike’s seat at the head of the table, opting instead for his usual righthand spot. Max was beside him in the next seat over. Will was pacing back and forth at the end of the room, too wound up to sit.

“You’re thinking this… broadcast is what’s affecting Mike?” Lucas asked.

“Occam’s razor would suggest as much,” Dustin said. “More solid analysis is proving… tricky, but it seems to have a lot in common with certain Vulcan capabilities. Or, I would assume, the abilities that Lieutenant Hopper has displayed.”

“Speaking of Lieutenant Hopper…” Will put in. He’d stopped pacing and was now leaning on the end of the table, looking significantly at Lucas.

Lucas shook his head. “She’s still with Mike, and I have no idea how it’s going. I’m afraid to even try and talk to her, just in case it messes it up, somehow.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Max’s hands were on the table in front of her, curled into fists. “That life-form is the cause of this, yeah? Well, the  _ Hawkins _ has enough firepower to vaporize it.”

Lucas’s eyebrows shot up. “Just like that?”

“It put our captain into a coma, Lucas!” Max snapped, bringing her palm down on the table to punctuate the point. “I feel pretty okay classifying it as hostile at this point.”

“Whoa, whoa, okay,” Dustin said before Lucas could respond. “Hostile or not--and I know you guys aren’t used to hearing this from me--I really wouldn’t recommend that course of action. It’s way too risky.”

The other three turned to look at him. “Risky?” Lucas asked.

“Look, the life-form is psionically entangled with Mike,” Dustin said. “So, yeah, maybe forcefully severing the connection will wake him up. Or maybe it’ll give him permanent brain damage. I don’t know, and I really don’t want to find out the hard way.”

Max hissed an expletive under her breath and stared down at the table’s surface, seething. Lucas slid his hand over and interlaced his fingers with hers; her expression didn’t change, but she squeezed his hand, hard. “Okay,” Lucas said, keeping his voice level. “What I’m hearing is that for the moment, our best hope of getting Mike back is whatever it is that Lieutenant Hopper is doing.”

Dustin flopped down into a seat, letting out a long sigh. “That’s an accurate assessment of the situation, yeah.”

The four of them sat in silence for a long time after that, each lost in their own thoughts.

- - -

The ship rattled repeatedly under heavy blasts, the intermittent impacts counterpointed by the steady blare of the red alert siren. “Shields down to 28%!” Lieutenant Kane called. “A couple more hits like that and we’ll be a sitting duck!”

“Helm, change up evasive pattern!” Mike snapped. “Switch to gamma three!”

“Aye, sir!” the helm officer replied.

“That’ll only work for so long,” Mike said, lowering his voice so that only the person beside him could hear. “They’ve adapted to every evasive pattern so far within minutes. We need to end this decisively or they’ll wear us down and destroy us.”

“Agreed,” said Captain Sigaurn. She seemed perfectly serene, but Mike knew her well enough to know that the Vulcan woman was thinking furiously. “I believe that I have a workable plan, but we need just a bit more time.”

“I can buy us that,” Mike said. Raising his voice, he barked, “Helm--”

The order was cut off as the biggest impact yet shook the bridge, throwing Mike to the floor. The lighting dimmed and flickered, and the ensuing darkness was lit by a shower of sparks shooting from the instruments at the rear of the bridge. “Report!” Mike called, climbing back to his feet as the light returned to the bridge.

The operations officer began rattling off damage numbers, but Mike’s attention was suddenly elsewhere as his eyes landed on Lieutenant Kane. The older man was sprawled over the tactical console, limbs sticking out at unnatural angles. A steady stream of blood was trickling from his face, sliding over the console’s surface and dripping down to the floor.

“This wasn’t the first time you’d seen someone die,” El said.

“No,” agreed Mike. “Starfleet duty is dangerous, and I knew that. But it was the first time I’d had somebody die under my command.”

“This is the ship where you served as first officer, then?” El asked, looking around. The bridge crew and all traces of the battle had quietly disappeared; the ship around them was silent and pristine, an idealized recollection existing in the limbo of Mike’s memory.

“The  _ Surak _ ,” Mike said. “Yes. She was beautiful. I wouldn’t trade the  _ Hawkins _ for anything, but I had some good times on this ship.” They had moved, now, without him noticing--had he begun to walk without thinking? No, they’d moved too far for that.

“Oh, wow,” El breathed. The observation room’s window yawned before them, taking up the room’s far wall and half the ceiling with a glittering expanse of stars.

“Incredible, isn’t it?” said Mike, moving to stand right next to her. “I always used to come in here when I needed to think, or relax, or… or just  _ be _ . A lot of the crew did.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw vague humanoid figures flicker in and out of existence throughout the room; familiar voices murmured in his ear. “It was a good place to find people who needed to talk, or be talked to.”

“Somehow, I’m not surprised that this was your favorite spot,” El said, still looking at the stars.

“It is very me, isn’t it?” Mike laughed, unable to keep a rueful edge out of it. “I guess my father was right about that, at least. I’ve always been here, one way or another… standing, and staring up at the stars.”

El turned to him, and gave him a smile that made his heart leap, just a little. “They’re right there. All you need to do is reach for them.” She turned and began to move forward.

Mike blinked. El wasn’t walking, she was  _ floating _ \--right up to the window of the observation room. “How is this possible?” he breathed.

“This is your mind, Captain,” El replied with a laugh. “ _ Anything’s _ possible if you want it to be.” Again, she held out her hand; again, Mike reached out and took it. Together, they floated gently up and out, passing through the window as though it wasn’t even there. Ahead of them, in the starfield, an object waited--a node of opalescent flesh, surrounded by a halo of delicate tendrils.

“That’s--” Mike gasped.

“You remember?” asked El.

He nodded. “I remember. We found it… it felt like it was looking at me.”

“I think it still is,” El said.

“Yeah,” agreed Mike. “I don’t… feel like it means any harm, though. I just get this feeling… like it’s just… curious?”

“I think so,” said El. “It probably doesn’t quite realize what it’s doing to you. Maybe mind-to-mind communication is the norm for its species.”

Before them, the life form swirled, back and forth. The stars spun around them in response, tracing bright patterns against the black void. Nebulae passed above them, ever-shifting; in the background Mike thought he could see the bright lines of a pulsar emission, and so far away it was only a faint flash--a supernova?

“Is this what the universe looks like to you?” he asked. The life-form said nothing in response-- _ words probably aren’t its thing _ \--but a warm, content feeling pulsed through his body. “Thank you for sharing,” he said. “I hope you found my memories interesting.”

El squeezed his hand. “Time to go, Captain.”

The stars dimmed, and darkness rushed in from all around. Mike took one last look at the life-form, smiling at it and hoping it could sense the feeling behind the gesture, before closing his eyes and letting the dark swallow him.

- - -

Consciousness returned slowly, like floating up from the bottom of a deep sea.

Mike became aware of something resting on his forehead. He cracked his eyes open, feeling them protest at the sudden flood of harsh light. El was sitting above him, arm outstretched, fingertips on his temples. Blood was oozing from her nostrils, beginning to collect in a line along her upper lip. Blearily, he reached out and daubed at it, making her jump.

“Blood,” he croaked.

El smiled, gently taking his wrist and guiding his hand back down onto the bed. “I told you, it’s fine, Captain.”

“Captain?” The voice was familiar, and within moments Doctor Ouvens was at the other side of his bed, peering down at him. “Thank goodness. Welcome back to the land of the living, sir.”

“Oh, I feel like I’ve been doing an awful lot of living today.” Mike attempted to push himself upright into a sitting position, but had to give up as the motion started a pain throbbing in his head. “Ugh. Or reliving, as the case may be.” Doctor Ouvens frowned in confusion, but El let out a soft giggle.

“ _ Sinclair to Doctor Ouvens, _ ” Lucas’s voice came from over Doctor Ouvens’ combadge. “ _ The unidentified life-form has begun to move away from the ship. Is there any change in the Captain’s condition? _ ”

“As it happens, the Captain has just woken up,” Doctor Ouvens replied, smiling.

“Tell him,” Mike said, “that if he’s watching the bridge, then I expect him to  _ stay there _ and not do anything foolish like running down here and fussing unnecessarily over me.”

“The Captain says--”

“ _ Yeah, I heard. _ ” There was a smile in Lucas’s voice. “ _ But we’re treating you to something nice tonight, Captain, and you can’t stop us. _ ”

“Tch. Mutiny,” Mike grumped, but he was smiling too.

He heard El stand up. “I should return to my post,” she said. “Captain, I’m glad--”

“Now hold on, miss,” Doctor Ouvens interrupted. “I don’t claim to understand what you just did to bring the Captain back, but whatever it was, you’ve been at it for nearly five hours straight. You’re not going anywhere until you’ve laid down and gotten some rest.”

Mike turned to gape at El. “ _ Five hours? _ ”

El looked helplessly at him. “It’s nothing. I’m fine, really, I am. Captain--”

“Don’t bother appealing to him,” said Doctor Ouvens. “My medical judgement as the ship’s doctor supersedes even his authority.”

“He’s right, Lieutenant,” Mike said quietly. “Besides, even if I could overrule him, I wouldn’t. I want you to take care of yourself.”

“But, Captain--”

“Lieutenant.” He hardened his gaze. “You promised me.”

A flush rose in El’s cheeks, and though her mouth worked for a few moments more, she eventually bit back the protest. “I did,” she agreed. “Very well. I’ll… go rest in my quarters, then.”

“I want you to get some rest, too,” Doctor Ouvens added to Mike as El walked out the door. “I have no idea what you’ve been through today, but I’ll be very interested in finding out…  _ after _ you’ve rested.”

“I suppose I just undercut any chance I had of arguing with you, didn’t I?” With a sigh, Mike settled back into the bed, closed his eyes, and let himself drift off.

- - -

“Come in,” El said.

Mike stepped in through the door. El had the lights down low, so he could only see silhouettes of her furniture and belongings scattered around the room. El herself was just barely visible in the gloom, a figure reclining on the bed that sat bolt upright as he approached. “Lights,” she said, and the room bloomed into sudden illumination that made Mike blink. “Captain,” El continued. “What can I do for you?”

Mike laughed at that. “Everything you’ve already done for me today, Lieutenant, and you still ask that?”

“I told you, it was nothing,” El said, looking away from him.

“No, it wasn’t.” Absent anything immediately obvious to sit on, Mike crouched, looking up at El where she sat on the bed. “Honestly… I’m not even sure what I came here to say. ‘Thank you’ doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

“I did my duty, that’s all.” El’s lips tugged up into a small smile. “Thanks aren’t necessary.”

“That’s too bad, because you have them anyway.” Mike smiled back at her. “You have a very…  _ singular _ definition of your duty, Lieutenant. Most people I know would classify diving into your captain’s mind to save him as above and beyond the call.”

“You weren’t even in danger.”

“You didn’t know that.” Mike fixed her with his best  _ I’m your captain, so listen to me _ look. “I’m sorry, Lieutenant. I’m grateful to you, and you’re just going to have to deal with that.”

“I suppose I’ll survive,” El laughed. “Then… you’re welcome, Captain.”

Mike rose to his feet. “We’re off-duty, Lieutenant. ‘Mike’ is perfectly fine.”

“All right,” El said, looking at him. “But in return, you should call me ‘El’.”

“I suppose that’s fair.” Mike turned and walked to the door, stopping in the doorway to give her one last smile. “Goodnight… El.”

She smiled back. “Goodnight, Mike.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go, a chapter for all you Mileven junkies out there. (It's me, I'm the Mileven junkie.) The temptation to make this the third chapter in the series was incredibly strong, but there are characters besides Mike and El in this series and they deserve focus too, so... I'm doing my best to pace myself :P


	6. Virtual Tour

“ _ Chief Engineer’s log: Lieutenant Henderson has forwarded some technical requests for experiments that he wants to run in the near future. They’re going to be fairly tricky to fill, but since he’s been so good about actually keeping me and the Captain informed about what he’s up to these days, I’ll do what it takes to make them work. He’s agreed to loan me Ensign Buckley as a temporary liaison so that we can work out the details. _ ”

“Good morning, sir,” Robin said as she walked through the doors into Engineering, datapad in hand.

“Is it morning?” Will asked distractedly. He was crouched next to one of the many esoteric devices installed in the room, gaze shifting rapidly between it and the datapad he held in his hand.

“Well, I just got off my sleep shift,” Robin said with a shrug. “Do you have a different sleep shift, Commander?”

“My sleep shift,” replied Will, still absorbed in his work, “is the engineer’s schedule. I sleep when I’m not needed. Which is never.”

The words sounded like a joke, but he’d said them as matter-of-factly as if he were delivering a status report on the power couplings. “You, uh… I mean… that sounds… awful?” Robin ventured.

“Engineer’s life,” said Will. “You people just take this metal contraption that keeps us all from dying in the vacuum for granted. For instance,” he jerked a thumb at the device he was currently examining, “right now I’m double-checking the antimatter containment, because if it were to rupture we’d all be space dust before we even knew what was happening. You want anything?”

“Uh, what?” Robin asked. Will rose from his crouch and crossed over to the wall, which had a more familiar device installed in it. “Wait, you have a replicator in here?”

“Of course we do,” Will replied. “It lets us create components on the fly without having to run between decks. And there are fringe benefits.” He addressed the replicator. “Raktajino, hot.” The replicator’s interior nook shimmered, and a large mug materialized, steam drifting out of the top.

“That’s… Klingon coffee, right?” Robin asked.

“It’s the good stuff, yes.” Will took the mug and, in one smooth motion, raised it to his lips, tilting his head back to let the drink flow down his throat. He stayed like that for several seconds until the mug was drained, at which point he set it back into the replicator’s nook to be recycled. “Aah,” he commented, an expression of supreme contentment crossing his face.

At this point, Robin didn’t know if she should be regarding him with admiration or abject terror.

“Well then!” said Will, making Robin jump slightly with the sudden outburst of perkiness. “Let’s see what we can do about Lieutenant Henderson’s requests, shall we?”

“Uh… yeah. I mean, yes sir,” Robin replied, producing the datapad she’d been holding. “Ever since the, er, dimensional breach incident, he’s been wanting to follow up on what exactly happened and what exactly it was that we accessed.”

“He would,” sighed Will, taking the pad. “I assume that he’ll need to set up containment for another microsingularity, then?”

“Well…” Robin grimaced slightly. “Microsingularit _ ies _ . Plural.”

The pained expression that washed over Will’s face in a long, drawn-out wave was truly fascinating to behold. “That sounds  _ so interesting _ ,” he said in a tone of cheerfulness that tried and failed to not sound forced. “Let’s just… have a look at the power grid, shall we?”

They departed the engine room portion of Engineering together, moving into a control room filled with consoles--lining the walls, as well as a handful standing free in the middle of the floor. “I mean, if the power requirements are going to be too much--” Robin said.

“The power requirements aren’t an issue,” Will said, punching up a diagram on one of the consoles. “Even that level of containment field is trivial compared to what it takes to power the warp drive.” His finger traced along one of the lines on the diagram. “The difficult part is delivering that level of sustained power to Dustin’s lab without blowing out any conduits or couplings along the way.”

“Oh. I see.” Robin blinked. “I guess I didn’t think of that.”

“Why would you think of that? You have me to think of it for you.” Despite Will’s slightly annoyed tone, the statement was made in good humor, and Robin smiled in response.

“ _ Sinclair to Commander Byers _ ,” Lucas’s voice spoke from Will’s combadge.

Will looked up from the diagram to give Robin a significant look before tapping his badge. “Byers here. What is it, Commander?”

“ _ We’ve got some crew members reporting… problems, with Holodeck 2. _ ”

“...I’m guessing that it’s useless to ask you to elaborate on what’s meant by ‘problems’?”

“ _ Wish I could, but I’m literally reading off the report I was handed. Can you run up there and have a look at it? _ ”

Will sighed, jerking his head to indicate that Robin should follow him. “Acknowledged, Commander. I’m on my way.”

- - -

“Whoa,” Robin remarked. Even inactivated, with the bare metal of its projector units standing out against the walls, Holodeck 2 was almost cavernous, larger than any room she’d seen on the  _ Hawkins _ thus far with the exception of the canteen.

“You haven’t been in the holodeck before?” Will asked, fiddling with something in the corner.

“No, sir,” Robin replied, still gazing around her. “I’ve used the holosuites a couple of times since I came on board, but I’ve never had an occasion to be in one of the decks.”

“You’re missing out,” Will said. “Holosuites are fine, but they can’t hold a candle to one of these. With the processing power and projection complexity that a holodeck gives you, you can simulate just about anything you could imagine.” An electrical buzz ran through the room, and the walls shimmered and vanished. Suddenly they were standing in the middle of a barren desert, the sun high in the sky and beating down from overhead. They were surrounded by rocks piled into craggy formations, and in the distance was a gleaming pile of metal that looked like it might have been a city once.

Robin turned in place, gaping at the scene. Experimentally, she looked down and scuffed her foot against the ground; a small cloud of dust rose up in response. “Okay, yeah,” she said with a giddy giggle. “You’ve convinced me, this is amazing.”

“Um.” Will had risen to his feet, whatever he’d been fiddling with having vanished into the holographic landscape. He was currently in the middle of adjusting a diagnostic tool that he’d brought in with him. “I… didn’t activate this program.”

Robin whirled, her good mood deflating like a punctured balloon. “What? Then who did?”

“That’s a really good question.” Will gave up on whatever it was he was doing with his tool and tapped his combadge. “Byers to Commander Sinclair. Lucas, who the hell is screwing around with the holodecks while I’m trying to fix them?”

“ _ Uh… nobody should be, _ ” Lucas responded, hesitant and uncertain. “ _ I ordered that entire deck cleared out while you worked. _ ” There was a pause, and then his voice returned. “ _ The computer says that you and Ensign Buckley are the only two crew down there. _ ”

“Please don’t say that, Lucas,” Will groaned.

“ _ ...why not? _ ”

“Because it means that the holodeck just switched on by itself, which is infinitely more terrifying.”

“Uh, Commander?” Robin was pointing. A figure had appeared from behind one of the outcroppings of rock, bent and gnarled, swathed in fabric with bits and pieces of scrap metal strapped on as makeshift armor. Over its face it wore a covering with round, glassy eyes and a stubby snout that terminated in something that looked like a breathing apparatus--after a moment, Robin recognized it as an archaic gas mask.

“Great,” grumbled Will. “Looks like we’re stuck in somebody’s post-apocalyptic program.” He pointed his diagnostic tool at the figure, and the tool began beeping helpfully.

“Post-apocalyptic?” Robin asked, wrinkling her nose. The figure had produced some bulky monstrosity of a projectile weapon and begun to level it at her. “That sounds depressing. Who would want to spend their free time--”

She was cut off by Will barreling headlong into her, knocking her to the ground at the same instant that the figure’s projectile weapon fired with an explosive report. The scene spun around her, and she felt hands grasping at her--Will, already back on his feet, was pulling her up to hers. “ _ Cover! _ ” he barked, with such authority that her legs moved to obey automatically, and the two of them dove behind a rock as another shot rang out.

“I’m sorry, Commander, but  _ what the hell? _ ” Robin asked, panting.

“The safety protocols have been disengaged,” Will explained tersely, craning his neck to try and see around the rock without exposing himself. “Those shots were potentially lethal.”

“What?” Robin gaped at him. “ _ Why is that even a thing that can happen?! _ ”

“ _ I don’t know! _ ” Will snapped back. He held his diagnostic tool up. “This is all I have on me. I don’t suppose you thought to bring a phaser?”

“I’m not in the habit of arming myself for routine maintenance, Commander.” Robin realized the moment the words left her mouth how easily they could be interpreted as insubordination, too late to recall them. 

Annoyance and amusement warred for position on Will’s face; finally, he clamped down on the smile that was threatening to break out and simply said, “That’s fair enough.” Heavy bootsteps from the other side of the rock indicated the approach of the figure. “All right. On my mark, get ready to--”

The world around them flared white, and suddenly they were somewhere else.

“--nevermind,” Will finished. “Apparently, this is now happening.” Their cover having vanished in the transition, he and Robin rose slowly to their feet. The baking desert had given way to what appeared to be a castle of some sort, but one far larger and more complex than anything that existed in reality. It was an entire city complex, Robin realized as she looked around her, albeit one that was falling into ruins. She and Will were standing on an enormous bridge spanning the gap between two portcullises--portculli?--two gates, one leading toward what looked like an outer wall and the other inward toward some sort of keep.

“I’m going to go ahead and guess that you didn’t run this program either,” Robin said.

“You would be correct,” Will said. “That’s interesting, not only did it turn itself on, it’s skipping between programs at--” He stopped suddenly. “Do you hear that?”

Robin did hear it, a noise that sounded uncannily like the flapping of giant wings. Then it was followed by what was very distinctly a loud growl, and Will and Robin broke into a sprint, making for the outer gate as the bridge behind them was bathed in flames. The dragon skimmed low over them, roaring irritably, coming to a stop at the far end of the bridge and taking up a perch above the inner gate.

Robin and Will burst through the outer gate, flopping down to the ground in relieved exhaustion. “What--the hell--kind--of program--?” Robin asked between gasps of breath.

“Dark fantasy,” Will panted. “More fun than the present situation would seem to indicate, actually.”

“Pass,” said Robin. “I prefer programs where nothing’s trying to kill me.”

“Maybe we’ll get lucky and get one of those next.” On cue, their surroundings blurred into white light and shifted, depositing them into what appeared to be a suburban neighborhood. “Ooo, score.”

Robin didn’t share Will’s optimism, sitting up to scan their surroundings for imminent trouble. None was forthcoming, though; they were sitting outside in the front yard of an old-style house, surrounded on all sides by rustling pine trees, the sky above them deepening from twilight into night. Robin spotted a note taped to the front door of the house--probably something to do with the plot of the program they were currently in. She was  _ very _ disinterested.

“It’s weird, though,” Will said, lying on his back and looking up at his diagnostic tool. “This is abnormal behavior for a holodeck.”

“Maybe that’s why they reported it broken?” Robin asked dryly.

“No, I mean it’s  _ really  _ abnormal behavior. And don’t think I can’t hear your sarcasm,  _ Ensign _ .” Robin swallowed. “Normally, when a holodeck breaks, it just… stops working,” Will continued. “This is something different. The program’s functioning, it’s just trying to do something that it shouldn’t be doing.”

“But what, exactly? And why would it start doing it all of a sudden?”

“Well,” Will said, sitting up. “Nine times out of ten, when a system starts acting strangely out of nowhere, the problem has its origin in user error.” He tapped his combadge. “Byers to Commander Sinclair.”

“ _ Sinclair here. How are things going down there? _ ”

“We’re managing,” Will replied, ignoring the way Robin pointedly raised her eyebrows at him. “Can you tell me who the last person to use this holodeck was before it started having problems?”

“ _ Let’s see, that was… _ ” There was a pause as Lucas accessed the information. “ _ Ensign Roko, from the looks of it. Do you want me to call them in? _ ”

“If you could,” Will replied. “Byers out. Of course it was an ensign,” he continued after deactivating his combadge. “It’s always an ensign. Uh, no offense meant.”

Robin tried to give him a withering look, but the effect was ruined when she burst into a fit of giggles. “No, I can’t hold that one against you,” she said. “I mean, I have to work with Ensign Harrington, after all.”

“Fair point,” replied Will, smiling. “Although I can’t imagine that Lieutenant Henderson is much better.”

“He really isn’t, no,” Robin said. “So I suppose the lesson here is that idiocy knows no rank?”

“That sounds apt. Idiocy is the quality that all sapient species share, after all.” The world around them blurred white again. “Oops. Looks like our break’s over.” The blur resolved into a thick jungle, surrounding them with bright green foliage punctuated by an occasional splash of color from a flowering plant.

A wave of wet heat hit Robin in the face, and she reflected grumpily that there were certain levels of realism that she could do without. The notion was only reinforced as her attention was drawn to the distant sound of animals chattering and hollering. “So this might be an overly obvious question,” she said, “but shouldn’t we maybe be trying to leave before we get killed?”

“A good impulse,” Will said. “Two problems. First, if the problem is with the program like I think it is, I’m going to have the best chance of fixing it from the inside.”

Robin crossed her arms. “I’m really hoping that your second reason is going to be more compelling than getting us killed for your engineer’s stubbornness.”

Will smiled with a distinct lack of humor. “Computer,” he called. “The arch.” There was a flickering in midair as the holodeck’s control arch materialized out of the air--or rather  _ attempted _ to materialize. After several seconds of flickering in and out of existence, the arch vanished with a distinctly unhealthy sounding electrical buzz. “Second,” Will said, “this malfunction’s eating up so much processing power that it’s messing with our ability to access the holodeck controls.”

“And how long have you known this?” Robin asked, stomach sinking.

“For sure? I only just confirmed it with that,” Will said, looking at the spot where the arch had tried to materialize. “But I suspected it was the case, since assuming the worst-case scenario usually works out for me.”

“I’m starting to get that,” Robin muttered. Something rustled ominously in the foliage, several meters away from the pair of them. “Speaking of which…”

“Yeah, it looks like we should probably run,” agreed Will. They turned and sprinted as a tiger erupted out of the jungle, snarling as it bore down on them. “Dodge between the trees!” Will called as they ran. “It’ll slow it down! That’s how I got away from it last time!”

“Last time?” Robin asked between deep gasps of breath. “You’ve played this program before?  _ Why?! _ ”

“Calisthenics!” Will answered. 

They wove and skidded between the trees, the tiger slewing wildly over the ground as it attempted to follow them. A deep burning began to set in in Robin’s legs and lungs, and she gritted her teeth against it.  _ Anytime, you malfunctioning piece of crap. Anytime you want to change over the program is just  _ fine  _ with me! _

“ _ Sinclair to Commander Byers, _ ” Lucas’s voice spoke from Will’s combadge.

“Oh, for--” Will reached up and tapped it. “A little busy at the moment, Lucas!”

They could almost  _ hear _ Lucas’s look of confusion over the comm. “ _ Uh, busy with…? _ ”

“We’re being chased by a tiger!” Robin yelled, finding herself marveling at how conversationally the words came out of her mouth. The tiger yowled as if to back up her statement.

“ _ I don’t--is this one of the programs, or? _ ”

“It is!” said Will. “But the safeties are off, so if you think about it, it might as well be a real--”

“ _ The safeties are off?! _ ” Lucas’s voice moved up in pitch. “ _ Will, why the hell didn’t you tell me? _ ”

“Because then you’d just worry about me, and I know that you worry too much! Look, Lucas, it’s fine, we’ve got this under control-- _ whoop! _ ” The jungle suddenly faded to white around them, and a mixture of disorientation and exhaustion sent Will and Robin tumbling to the ground.

Which was suddenly made of polished rock.

“Yeah, there we go,” panted Will. “See, Lucas, we’re fine. Right, Ensign?”

“Ow,” replied Robin.

“Pain just means you’re still alive,” Will said. “Uh, that is, you didn’t break anything important, did you?”

“My dignity’s taken a beating, but what else is new.” Robin pushed herself up into a sitting position. The wet heat of the jungle had given way to damp cool--they were in some sort of cavern, on a stone walkway than ran in a straight line over a pool of clear water. Robin didn’t spend too much time thinking about why she could see without any visible source of light; she supposed that even holodecks had to cheat a bit sometimes.

“I’m hoping that you’re calling because you found Ensign Roko, Lucas?” Will asked.

“ _ Um, _ ” answered a timid voice over the comm. “ _ This is Ensign Roko, commander. Is… is everything okay? _ ”

“Dandy,” replied Will. “Ensign, you were the last one to use this holodeck before it started to malfunction, correct?”

“ _ So I’m told, sir. _ ”

“And might I ask what exactly you were doing?”

“ _ Nothing, sir! That is--I have regular relaxation time scheduled. There’s this really nice program where you can just call up a lounge and-- _ ”

“I’m familiar with the lounge program,” Will interrupted. “Ensign, I need you to think. Was there  _ anything _ you did that was out of the ordinary? Anything at all?”

“ _ Um… _ ” Ensign Roko paused in thought. “ _ Oh. There was one thing, just a sort of silly thought I had, but… _ ”

“No buts, Ensign. Tell me.”

“ _ Well… I wondered if the holodeck would be able to create a Penrose triangle for me. _ ”

“What,” Will said.

“ _ What _ ,” Lucas said.

“What?” Robin asked. “What’s a Penrose triangle?”

Will pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s… it’s a theoretical figure, or more of an optical illusion. A square bar bent into a triangle, except if you look at it you notice that the way it connects to itself is completely impossible. In other words, Ensign Roko asked the holodeck to create an impossible object.”

“ _ Is that a problem, sir? _ ” Ensign Roko asked timidly. “ _ I mean, it just kind of fizzled out, so I figured that the holodeck had given up. _ ”

“Oh, it  _ didn’t _ give up,” said Will, mouth stretching into a disturbingly manic grin. “It’s been trying to figure out how to make your triangle this whole time. And if I had to guess…” He gestured at the cavern around him. “...it’s resorted to crunching through every bit of data stored in its banks in the hopes that it’ll find something that it can use to fulfill the request.”

“Then if we cancel the request…” Robin said.

“Easier said than done,” Will said. “Remember the arch?”

“All too well,” Robin said. “So what’s our plan of action, then?”

“If the holodeck is attempting to make the triangle, then it stands to reason that it must be in ‘existence’ buried somewhere in these programs.” Will looked down the length of the cavern; there was a tunnel at the end that descended further into the depths. “If we can locate it, I can make the holodeck delete it, and the rest should sort itself out.”

“That sounds simple enough,” Robin said. “Which no doubt means there’s some unforeseen and potentially lethal complication lurking around the corner.”

“Now you’re learning,” Will agreed. “Lucas, you catch all that?”

“ _ Unfortunately. Are you going to be okay in there? _ ”

“We’re Starfleet, right? Weird shit’s part of the job.”

“ _ Do you need Ensign Roko for anything else? _ ”

“No, they’re free to go. As long as they promise to think carefully before messing around with the holodeck next time.”

“ _ I promise, _ ” replied Ensign Roko. “ _ Sorry, sir. _ ”

“If it wasn’t you, it would’ve been someone else,” Will said with just the slightest edge of weariness in his voice. “I’ll let you know how it goes, Lucas. Byers out.” He turned to Robin. “Still with me, Buckley?”

“Somebody’s got to watch your back,” Robin said. “I think Lieutenant Henderson would be upset if I let his friend die.”

Will smiled. “All right. Off we go, then.” They set off down the length of the cavern and into the tunnel, descending a shallow set of stairs for a few dozen meters until the tunnel suddenly opened up into another cavern, larger than the first by a significant margin and suffused by the same inexplicable ambient light.

“What the  _ hell _ \--?” Robin asked.

“This would be that complication you mentioned earlier,” Will said.

The stairs wound down below them, eventually connecting to an opening in the exterior of what appeared to be a massive labyrinth, hewn out of solid rock. Through the open top, Robin could see spidery passageways branching off in all directions. More concerningly, here and there she could see bits that appeared to be  _ moving _ , slamming bits of the wall together or turning mechanisms that seemed to have nasty purposes. In one spot she could swear that she could see  _ fire _ shooting up out of the labyrinth at regular intervals.

“I hate this already,” she said.

“It’s your basic obstacle course,” Will said mildly. He began to make his way down the stairs to the labyrinth entrance. “You’ve never experienced the urge to run through an ancient ruin seeded with all manner of traps, testing yourself against its dangers?”

“Honestly, that sounds way too much like something I’d run into as a Starfleet mission to be appealing,” Robin answered. She looked up at the walls looming above them. “We have to go through the whole thing, don’t we?”

Will grinned at her, and to her shock there wasn’t even a trace of sardonic humor in his expression. “Time for you to learn an important lesson, Ensign,” he said. “Never simply accept the rules you’re presented with without considering the alternatives.”

Robin frowned. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying give me a boost.”

Robin blinked at him in confusion, and then, understanding, crossed over to Will and put her hands on his waist. She hoisted him up and, with her steadying him, he was able to find purchase on the rough exterior of the wall. Within moments he’d managed to scramble up and pull himself to the top. “All right, now you,” he said, lying down and extending his arms as far as they would reach. Robin took a few steps back, then sprinted at the wall, taking a giant leap and letting her momentum carry her a few steps up its surface. Will’s hands caught her around her hand and wrist and they hauled together, Robin pushing herself up with her legs and Will pulling her from above. Before long she, too, was on top of the wall.

“All right,” Will said as they both eased themselves carefully to their feet--the wall was just wide enough to stand with both feet planted at shoulder width. “I’m thinking that what we’re looking for is going to be over there.” He pointed at an opening in the dead center of the labyrinth which was emitting a bright blue glow.

“This seems too easy,” Robin said. “Aren’t we cheating right now?”

“We are, but the point of the program is to test yourself against the traps. I don’t think it’s prepared for anybody to try and bypass them like this.”

Above them, something let out a ragged screech.

“I could be wrong, of course,” Will amended hastily. “Also, we should probably run.”

And run they did, taking off along the top of the labyrinth in a winding path towards the blue glow, wobbling back and forth as they struggled to maintain their balance and speed at the same time. Robin heard something above and behind them flap its wings and snort. “ _ Duck! _ ” she called out, and the two of them dropped into a crouch just as a dark shape hurtled through the air where they’d been a moment before. 

“It’ll come back around for another pass,” Robin said, looking up as the shape disappeared into the darkness above them.

“We don’t have that far to go,” said Will. “Come on!”

They burst into movement again. Heat washed Robin’s face as they passed a jet of fire stabbing up from inside the labyrinth; the wall rattled under her feet as they ran alongside a passageway filled with swinging blades. In the part of her mind that wasn’t freaking out, she felt a stab of gratitude that at least she didn’t have to deal with  _ that _ bullshit.

However…

Their goal was only meters in front of them when the telltale flap of wings announced that whatever was attacking them had returned. On instinct, Robin surged forward with everything she had, wrapping her arms around Will as she barrelled into him hard. Then the wall ended and they dropped into freefall together, their unseen antagonist passing just above them, foiled once again. Twisting her body, Robin managed to force them into a roll as they slammed into the ground, their momentum dispersing as they bumped and tumbled to a stop, breaking apart and flopping into identical limp sprawls.

“Ow,” commented Will.

“Ow,” Robin agreed.

With a groan, Will hosted his body up from the floor. The chamber they’d fallen into was bathed entirely in the blue glow they’d been following, and now Robin could see that its source was a small pedestal in the chamber’s center. Floating in midair above it was… well, it was a triangle of some description, but looking at it hurt Robin’s brain. Not only were its dimensions blatantly impossible, but it kept flickering and shifting, as if it were trying to figure out how to exist properly. Which, if Robin had been understanding correctly, was exactly what was happening.

Approaching the pedestal, Will reached out and touched the triangle with one hand. “Computer,” he said, in a clear voice. “Delete designated object.”

The triangle flickered one last time and vanished, followed a moment later by the labyrinth around them. Will and Robin were once again in the deactivated holodeck, which no longer seemed so large now that she’d seen the environments it was capable of simulating.

“ _ Sinclair to Commander Byers, _ ” Lucas’s voice spoke. “ _ Holodeck 2 just powered down. Can I assume mission success? _ ”

“You can,” Will sighed. “And now, if you don’t mind, Ensign Buckley and I are going to take a short break from our duties.”

“ _ ...yes, that would definitely be a good idea. _ ”

- - -

“ _ And every gimmick hungry yob digging gold from rock n’ roll _

_ Grabs the mike to tell us he’ll die before he’s sold _

_ But I believe in this and it’s been tested by research _

_ He who f-- _ ”

“Hey, Commander,” Robin said as she walked into Engineering, raising her eyebrows slightly at the lyrics that were currently blaring throughout the deck. “Is that classical music? I wouldn’t have figured you for the type.”

Will grunted affirmative, bent over a console. “It’s an old music group from the late 20th century. You can blame my brother for turning me onto them.”

“Ah, a classical aficionado?”

Will laughed. “I don’t think Jonathan likes any music that’s been made in the last two centuries.”

“Sounds like a character.” Robin smiled slightly. “Is he in Starfleet too?”

“No, no,” Will said. “He’s… well, he’s off somewhere, tearing around the quadrant. I’m sure our poor mother would’ve preferred that at least one of her children stayed settled down, but Jonathan went and met somebody who dragged him off across the stars in search of truth.”

“Across the stars in search of truth, huh?” Robin repeated, raising her eyebrows. “Wow. You make them sound like one hell of a person.”

“Actually, she’s Captain Wheeler’s sister, if that explains anything.” Somehow, Robin found that it did in fact explain quite a bit. “But how are you doing?” Will continued, straightening up. “Doctor Ouvens get you fixed up all right?”

Robin shrugged. “As much as I needed, which wasn’t much. Apparently I’m just made of stern stuff, which is a good thing, considering everything.”

“You can say that again,” agreed Will. “Well, shall we get down to actually doing what we came here to do?” Robin said nothing in response, and after a few moments of silence Will looked at her quizzically. “...Ensign?”

“Oh, just waiting to be interrupted by the next engineering emergency,” Robin said. She gave Will a conspiratorial grin, and an identical one grew infectiously on his face in response. “All right, all right,” Robin said. “Let’s get to work.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because it's just not Star Trek without a holodeck episode, am I right? Also features the return of the classic "Get Down Mr. President" maneuver, which seems to be popping up regularly anytime Steve or Robin make an appearance. Not sure why; sometimes these things just happen.
> 
> The song Will's listening to in the final scene is "Death Or Glory" by The Clash, and I cut it off where I did for a reason, so google carefully!


	7. Hide And Seek

“That’s a bit of an impertinent inquiry, don’t you think?” Will said, but he was unable to keep the amusement off of his face.

Max shrugged. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, of course, but no judgement from me in any event. My love life is an open book.” She grinned mischievously. “There was this Betazoid, back on board the  _ Anansi _ \--”

“Yes, so I heard,” Will said, taking a drink of his raktajino. “Well, if you insist on prying, yes, there have been plenty. Nobody long-term, but you know, sometimes you see a good-looking guy and you just want to have some fun, right?”

“Oh, I can relate to that,” Max agreed. “It is still just guys, then?”

“With the allowance that that’s a category with fuzzy boundaries, yes,” Will said, and shrugged. “It’s just what I like.”

“Hey, as I said, no judgement from me. You like what you like.” Max’s gaze turned to Mike. “What about you? Has the captain been on any… interesting explorations?”

Mike coughed slightly into his Earl Grey. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m thoroughly boring in that regard,” he said, wiping off his chin. “Officer’s life. When I’ve had time, I haven’t had interest, and when I’ve had interest, I haven’t had time.”

“Boo,” Max said, pouting a little bit. “I was hoping for something I could tease you about.”

“Oh, good, I’ll definitely keep you updated on my love life, then,” Mike deadpanned.

Will looked up at somebody who was approaching their table. “Oh, hello, Lieutenant Hopper,” he said.

“Hello,” said El. She was carrying another cup of the tea she seemed to favor. “Mind if I sit?”

“You know, you don’t need to ask every time,” Max said. She gestured at an empty chair, and El sat gracefully, setting her tea down on the table.

“Hello, El,” Mike said, smiling at her. Max and Will’s heads swiveled in his direction, eyes suddenly alight.

“Hello, Mike,” El said, smiling back at him. Max and Will’s heads swiveled back to her, and Mike rolled his eyes internally. Didn’t his senior staff have better things to worry about than the fact that he and El were on a first-name basis now?

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your conversation,” El said, looking around the table. “What were you talking about?”

“Oh,” Mike said. “You know, speculating on interpersonal dynamics again.”

“Ah, gossiping about people’s love lives,” El said with a knowing smile. “The perennial favorite.”

“Wait, wait,” Max said. “I’ve been meaning to ask--do you guys know if Dustin has anybody? I mean, he’s always holed up in the lab, so I was just assuming that he’s in a committed relationship with science, but…”

“Well, you wouldn’t be  _ wrong _ about that,” replied Mike. “But he was seeing somebody long-distance, wasn’t he?”

Will nodded. “Vulcan scientist. He met her at a conference a couple of years ago.”

“Vulcan, huh? Interesting.” Max pursed her lips thoughtfully. “The Vulcan sex drive is pretty different from humans, right? I wonder how that works out for them.”

A broad grin split Will’s face. “Actually, he was with her the last time she went into  _ pon farr _ , and--”

“Okay, stop, no, I regret asking!” Max screwed her eyes shut and shook her head as though to clear something from her brain.

Mike raised his eyebrows at her. “This from Max ‘my love life is an open book’ Mayfield?”

“I draw the line at having to picture Dustin participating in a mating frenzy.” Max put a hand to her temple. “I love the guy, and I hope he’s happy with his Vulcan, but… no. Just, no.”

Laughter rippled around the table, interrupted suddenly by the chime of Mike’s combadge.

“ _ Sinclair to Captain Wheeler. _ ”

“Wheeler here,” Mike said. “What is it, Commander?”

“ _ We’ve picked up some sort of distress signal coming from the next system over. I’ve already had Lieutenant Prasad lay in a course, but I think you’re going to want to get up to the bridge ASAP. _ ”

“Understood, thank you, Commander.” Mike looked around the table; the other officers were listening to the conversation with a mixture of surprise and intrigue. “I’ll be up in a few minutes with the rest of the primary crew. Wheeler out.” He nodded, and together they stood and headed out from the canteen.

- - -

“Entering orbit around the seventh planet,” Kali said.

“Thank you, Ms. Prasad,” Mike said from the command chair. “Ms. Hopper, are you getting anything?”

“The planet’s Class L at a glance,” El said. “Uninhabited, but marginally habitable, so whoever the signal’s from should’ve survived even if their life support was breached in the crash.”

“That’s assuming they survived the crash itself,” Max added.

“We’ll see soon enough,” El replied. “Running a scan to try and pinpoint the wreckage. I’ll have it in a few moments.”

Mike eased back in his chair, quietly letting out a breath. Lucas was standing off the side of his chair, holding himself at ease with a subtle tension that Mike would’ve missed if he hadn’t known him so well. Max was behind him at her station, and El and Kali were in front of him at theirs. It was fortunate that they’d been in the area, given that they were in sparsely inhabited space near the edge of the Romulan neutral zone. Help could’ve been days or even weeks in coming otherwise, and if the senders of the signal had been badly injured in the crash…

“Got it,” El said. “That’s… huh.”

“Something wrong, Ms. Hopper?” Mike asked.

El shook her head. “No, just a little odd. It’s a small craft, single-occupant and short-range. I’m picking up a life reading for the pilot…” She frowned down at her console. “...humanoid, possibly Vulcan? Vitals are weak, from what I can tell. I’m guessing injured, possibly unconscious.”

“Let’s get them aboard right away, then.” Mike switched on his com. “Doctor Ouvens, prepare sickbay for incoming wounded.”

“ _ Understood, Captain. _ ”

“Locked for emergency transport, Captain,” El said.

Mike nodded. “Do it.” El’s console chirped as she worked its controls. “Do you have any sense of the craft’s origin? There’s not a lot around here for a short-range craft to launch from, from what I can recall.”

“From what I can recall as well,” El agreed, swiveling around in her chair to face him. “Unfortunately, the crash knocked the craft’s systems completely offline and tore up its profile pretty badly to boot. I don’t have a lot to go off of in terms of sensor data.”

“Maybe there’s a research base somewhere nearby?” Lucas suggested. “They tend to pop up in unexpected places.”

Mike gave a thoughtful ‘hmph’ in response, but before he could say anything more, his com chirped. “ _ Ouvens to Captain Wheeler. We have a problem. _ ”

“Is something wrong with your patient, Doctor?” Mike asked, pulse quickening.

“ _ Depends on your definition of ‘wrong with’... he’s Romulan, Captain. _ ”

The bridge went dead silent, everybody staring in shock at the news. Mike worked to put his thoughts back in order. Priorities, he had to prioritize. “Will you be able to stabilize him?”

“ _ Yes, that won’t be a problem, Captain. _ ”

“Then focus on that and let me worry about the rest.” Mike cut the comm line and leaned his head back against his headrest, mind racing.

“I thought Lieutenant Hopper said he was Vulcan?” Lucas asked.

“She said ‘possibly’ Vulcan,” Max said. “Similar physiologies.”

“And an understandable mix-up, given that the Romulans  _ aren’t supposed to be here _ ,” Mike said, tone dropping until it was nearly a growl. He leaned forward in his chair. “Okay. Ms. Mayfield, take a security detail down to sickbay. I want somebody keeping an eye on the Romulan at all times.” Max nodded and left the bridge at a brisk walk. “Ms. Hopper, I want you to scan the craft as thoroughly as you’re able. Get me every last bit of information about it that you can possibly get. Mr. Sinclair, you have command.”

“Where are you going, sir?” asked one of the auxiliary officers as Mike stood up.

Mike smiled grimly. “I’m going to have to report this to Admiral Hopper.”

- - -

“Calling this development ‘concerning’ would be an understatement, Captain Wheeler,” Hopper said.

“I’m right with you there, sir,” Mike agreed. He was sitting in his office, Hopper’s image on a viewscreen on his desk, transmitting from Starbase 413.

Hopper chewed his lip thoughtfully, making his moustache rustle and twitch. “Thus far, you’ve only found the one craft and the one Romulan?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” Mike said. “But given that the craft is short-range, it’s doubtful that it made it all the way through the neutral zone on its own. We haven’t picked up any other ships on our sensors, but…”

“...but that’s not saying much, given that the Romulans have cloaking technology,” finished Hopper. “Of course. Stay alert, find what you can, and keep me updated. I’ll be in communication with Starfleet Command.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I don’t think I need to tell you how delicate this situation is, Captain.” Hopper’s expression was as grave as Mike had ever seen it. “Technically, under the terms of our treaty with the Romulans, even this single small craft entering our space is an act of war.”

Mike’s blood froze. He  _ had _ known that, and yet… “But we don’t want a war with the Romulans,” he said, trying to keep the fear from his voice.

“We don’t want a war with anyone, on principle,” Hopper said. “But we don’t want to send the Romulans the message that they can violate our treaty without consequences, either.  _ That _ will lead to war just as certainly as anything else.”

Mike swallowed, hard.

“As I said, delicate,” Hopper continued. “It’s a lot to put on a young captain, I know, but… unfortunately, you’re the one who’s out there. I’m counting on you, Captain Wheeler.”

Mike gave him a stiff nod. “I won’t let you down, sir.”

“Very well. Hopper out.” The viewscreen flickered and went dark.

- - -

The mood in the ready room was somber, nobody sitting at the table in the mood to speak. Mike and Lucas traded periodic glances, but had nothing to add to them. El was staring at the tabletop, seemingly lost in her thoughts. Even Dustin and Will, who were usually good for a bit of irreverent banter, were silent, Will folded in on himself and Dustin turning restlessly in his chair.

Finally, the door slid open and Max strode in, followed shortly behind by Doctor Ouvens. “Any news?” Mike asked without preamble.

Max let out a sharp, frustrated sigh as she took her usual seat at the table next to Lucas. “Well, he’s awake,” she said.

“And?” Dustin asked, leaning forward. “Did he say anything?”

“His name is Sublieutenant Yelan,” Max replied, “and he has nothing to say to us. I know this because he said exactly that half a dozen times, in response to half a dozen different questions.”

“Even when you pointed out that a short-range craft couldn’t get out here on its own?” Lucas asked.

“ _ Especially _ when I pointed out that a short-range craft couldn’t get out here on its own,” Max sighed.

“So it sounds like we’re not getting anything out of him anytime soon,” Mike said. “Okay. Ms. Hopper, did you get anything useful from your scan of the ship?”

El looked up unhappily and shook her head. “I confirmed that the ship is Romulan in origin, but that doesn’t tell us anything we didn’t already know. Beyond that, the databanks are scrambled to the point of complete uselessness--either due to the crash, or some sort of failsafe measure.”

Mike buried his face in his hands. “So what I’m hearing is that we’re sitting on top of a political powder keg with no intel and no idea what’s going on.”

Doctor Ouvens spoke from where he was standing by the back wall. “We may have another option.”

Mike looked up at him. “I’m listening, Doctor.”

“Well.” Doctor Ouven’s gaze flickered over to El. “We know from that earlier incident with the spaceborne life-form that Lieutenant Hopper is capable of accessing the minds of conscious--”

The outburst was immediate and loud, multiple people speaking out at once.

“What the  _ hell _ ?” Max said.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Lucas said.

“You’re not seriously suggesting…?” Dustin asked.

Doctor Ouvens held up a placating hand. “I know it’s a bit of an… unprecedented solution, but--”

“Oh, it’s  _ precedented _ ,” Dustin snapped back. “If you figure it as the equivalent of using a mind probe on him, which is really,  _ really _ illegal--”

“All I’m saying,” Doctor Ouvens replied, raising his voice slightly, “is that given the gravity of the current situation, we may have to consider options that we would not normally--”

“ _ No. _ ”

All eyes in the room turned to El. Her face was fixed in an expressionless mask, but anger burned in her eyes, and she was clenching her fists so hard that her knuckles were turning white. “I will  _ not _ do any such thing,” she said in a low, furious voice. “I will  _ not  _ violate another being’s mind.”

Doctor Ouvens crossed his arms, undeterred. “You had no issues with tapping into Captain Wheeler’s mind, before.”

“ _ Because I thought his life was in danger! _ ” El snapped. “That’s completely different from ripping into a being’s mind, against their will, just for my own selfish purposes!”

“Acting for the good of the Federation is not  _ selfish _ \--” Doctor Ouvens countered, and the room filled with noise as multiple people began to speak over each other again.

Mike shot to his feet and slammed both of his hands on the table. “ _ Enough _ ,” he barked, and the room was suddenly dead silent. “Doctor, hallway.  _ Now _ .”

“Captain, I understand everyone’s objections,” said Doctor Ouvens from behind Mike as the door to the ready room closed behind them. “Really, I do. But I think you have to look at the big picture here--”

“No,” snapped Mike, whirling around to face him. “ _ You _ need to look at the big picture. What the  _ hell _ is wrong with you?”

Doctor Ouvens blinked, taken aback. “I’m… afraid I don’t take your meaning, Captain.”

Mike drew in a deep breath and let it back out slowly, trying to force himself into a calmer state. “You’re the ship’s doctor,” he said. “Do you realize what that means? It means that every single one of those people in there may well need to place their lives in your hands someday. And every single one of them just heard you suggest probing someone’s mind as though it were a… a minor moral quibble, at most.” He crossed his arms. “How do you think that makes them feel? How do you think that will make them feel, say, the next time they need to go in for surgery, and they’re trusting you with their bodies while they’re unconscious?”

“Oh.” Doctor Ouvens was looking back at him with a slightly stunned expression. “I admit, I hadn’t been thinking about it in those terms.”

“Obviously not.” Mike fixed him with a hard stare. “I’m putting my foot down as captain, Doctor. El… Lieutenant Hopper is not willing to use her abilities like that, and I am not willing to order her to go against her conscience. More importantly, if you go back in and apologize right now, you  _ might _ be able to salvage some of the damage you just did to the crew’s trust in you.”

Doctor Ouvens nodded, and they reentered the ready room together. Mike returned to his seat at the head of the table; the others, he noticed, were all glaring sullenly at Doctor Ouvens where he stood in the doorway.

Doctor Ouvens cleared his throat. “Captain Wheeler has… made me see how out of line my suggestion was. I want to apologize to all of you. In particular,” he looked over at El, “I want to apologize to Lieutenant Hopper. It was wrong of me to attempt to talk you out of your moral convictions. I don’t know if that’s something you can forgive me for, but… I am sorry.”

El was gazing pointedly at the table, and didn’t seem to trust herself to speak, but she nodded.

“Given the current circumstances,” Doctor Ouvens finished with a weak smile, “I… think it might be best if I bowed out and returned to my patient, Captain.”

“Agreed,” Mike said. “You’re dismissed, Doctor.”

“Can we even trust him around the Romulan?” Max asked quietly as the door closed behind him.

“I don’t think he’ll try anything,” Mike muttered, “but if he does, I’ll pitch him out the airlock myself.” This earned him slightly startled looks from the others, but he ignored them, rubbing blearily at his eyes. “More to the point, we just spent five minutes getting absolutely nowhere. We’re back at square one, with no answers.”

El and Lucas offered him sympathetic looks, and Max and Dustin both subsided back into their own thoughts. Will, however, suddenly looked up, gazing off into the distance as though something had just occurred to him. “I think we’re going about this wrong,” he said.

Mike looked up at him. “Continue, Commander.”

“We’re going at this from the assumption that we need to find out, either from the Romulan or his ship, whether there’s another Romulan ship in the area,” Will said. “And we’re stuck because we can’t do either of those things. But we also agree that it’s obvious that there  _ must _ be one somewhere nearby, since he couldn’t have gotten all the way out here on his own. So why don’t we start from the assumption that it  _ is _ there, and work backwards from that.”

“Okay…” Mike said, leaning back in his chair. He looked over at Lucas. “Mr. Sinclair, your thoughts on the scenario that Mr. Byers has just proposed?”

Lucas looked thoughtful. “Well, if we proceed from that assumption… we can also assume that they’re not out here to start a fight, because we’ve been in the area for over two hours and they haven’t taken any hostile action. It’s probably something more like recon or espionage.”

“That would explain the short-range craft,” Max said. “Smaller, less signature, easier to slip by unnoticed.”

“Implying that the other Romulan ship would be somewhere on standby, waiting for the craft to return.” Mike nodded. “Do we have any way to detect it while it’s cloaked?”

“Cloaking systems can defeat normal sensor arrays,” Dustin answered, “but in practice they tend to rely on the enemy’s ignorance of the ship’s presence altogether. There are plenty of ways to detect cloaked ships if you know that they’re nearby--a tachyon scan, for instance.”

“Of course, that means that we need to know where to look,” El said. “Doing a sweep of the entire sector would take a prohibitive amount of time.”

“No, we don’t need to sweep the entire sector,” Lucas said. “The Romulans are playing it safe, right? Well, the safest way to play it would be to keep their main ship inside the neutral zone, right at the edge. That craft could make it from there to here, no problem.” He looked at Mike. “We just need to run a sweep along the local border area, and we should be able to catch them.”

Mike grinned. “Now  _ this _ is sounding like a plan. Mr. Byers, Mr. Henderson, I want you two working together with Ms. Hopper to set up the tachyon scan in preparation for our sweep. Mr. Sinclair, Ms. Mayfield, you’re with me on the bridge. Let’s go catch those Romulans with their pants down.”

“Yes, sir!” the room chorused.

- - -

“Captain, I have a hit,” El said.

Mike sat straight up in his chair, coming out of his slouch. They’d been sweeping along the neutral zone border for hours, and while his nerves were too keyed up for him to truly lose focus, the grind had been starting to get to him. Now, though, he was fully alert. “Is it them?” he asked.

“Tachyon readings are consistent with a cloaked ship,” El replied. “Unless you can think of anybody else who’d be out here, I’m pretty confident saying that it’s them.”

“Looks like we’re pretty close to tactical distance from them,” Max said from her station. “You want me to bring weapons online?”

“Not just yet,” said Mike, holding up a hand to forestall her. “Raise shields and go to yellow alert. I’m going to try talking to them first.”

“They won’t be able to have weapons or shields online while they’re cloaked,” Lucas said from beside him. “Once they decloak, we’ll lose that advantage and they’ll be on even footing with us.”

“Understood, Mr. Sinclair, but once we start shooting we can’t take it back.” Mike rose to his feet. “Now stand next to me and try to look unyielding.”

“Sinclair and Wheeler, biggest badasses in the galaxy,” Lucas murmured as he stepped forward.

“That’s the spirit,” Mike said, the corners of his mouth twitching in the ghost of a smile. “Ms. Hopper, open a hailing frequency.”

“Frequency open, Captain.”

“Romulan vessel,” Mike said, putting all of his officer’s experience in sounding stern into his voice. “This is Captain Michael Wheeler of the  _ USS Hawkins _ , United Federation of Planets. We have detected your ship’s presence in the neutral zone, in violation of your treaty with the Federation. Respond.”

Silence fell over the bridge for a long moment, ended only by a slight intake of breath from Max. “They’ve decloaked… they’re raising shields, but they haven’t powered up weapons yet.” Mike felt himself relax just the tiniest bit.

“Incoming transmission from the Romulan vessel,” reported El.

“On screen.”

The bridge’s main viewscreen flickered to life, displaying the image of a Romulan woman with a sharp, angular face. Looking at her pointed ears and the distinctive tilt of her eyebrows, Mike could easily see how one might confuse a Romulan with a Vulcan… though it was hard to mistake the grey, aggressively dull uniform, or the way that she was glowering at him so fiercely that he’d swear he could feel the heat of it even over the transmission. “This is Commander Mianai of the Warbird  _ Velek _ ,” she said. “Explain your presence here, Captain.”

“ _ Our  _ presence?” Lucas asked, raising his eyebrows. “We’re the ones on our side of the fence here, Commander. Explain  _ your _ presence here first.”

“The Romulan Star Empire reserves the right to pursue its interests in the face of Federation aggression,” Mianai said, glaring down her nose at them. “We demand the immediate release of the crewman that you have taken prisoner.”

“We  _ rescued  _ your crewman from an accident that occurred while he was travelling illegally through Federation space, quite likely saving his life in the process,” Lucas shot back. “You have no right to--”

“Hold on,” Mike cut in. “What do you mean, Federation aggression? We haven’t taken any aggressive action against the Empire.”

“Please,” Mianai sneered. “Don’t play dumb with me, Captain. You know what your Federation has done.”

Mike smiled, but there was no humor or friendliness in it. “Humor me, Commander. What aggression is the Romulan Star Empire charging us with?”

Mianai snorted. “Just over one week ago, the Empire lost contact with several of its outposts along the neutral zone border. Our investigations, quite literally, turned up nothing--the outposts were annihilated without a trace, with only disturbed ground to show that they were ever there in the first place.” She fixed Mike with a steely gaze. “We do not know how the Federation entered our space undetected, or how they managed to obliterate our outposts so thoroughly. The intention of our mission was to provide those answers. Would you care to enlighten me, Captain?”

Despite his best efforts at composure, Mike couldn’t keep the shock off of his face. “That’s--” he began to say, before noticing El giving him a hard, significant look from her seat. “One moment, Commander,” he said, gesturing to cut the transmission. “Yes, Ms. Hopper?”

“Sir, Commander Mianai’s account is consistent with an incident that occurred on the Federation side of the neutral zone,” El said quickly. “The timeframe matches up too.”

Mike blinked. “Are you saying that  _ we  _ also lost neutral zone outposts?”

El nodded. “Yes, sir. And the details match the description she gave us--gone without wreckage or any indication of conventional attack. My… father mentioned it, the last time that we spoke. He told me it was classified information, but given the circumstances…”

“Yes, thank you for speaking up.” Mike frowned. “He didn’t mention it to me when I spoke to him. Surely Starfleet Command thought the Romulans were involved with that?”

“It was considered, but… well, they decided that the Romulans weren’t technologically advanced enough to accomplish a feat like that.”

“Well, clearly they have a higher opinion of us than we have of them,” Mike grumbled. “Resume transmission.” Mianai’s face reappeared on the viewscreen, her glower all the more pronounced at having been forced to wait. “Commander, the Federation has also lost outposts along the neutral zone border within the timeframe you describe,” he said, trying not to seem like he’d just learned the information seconds ago. “And in a similar manner to what you describe.”

Mianai’s eyebrows shot up. “Is that so, Captain?” she asked. Her tone of voice made it painfully clear that she didn’t believe him.

“It is,” Mike replied forcefully, meeting her eyes dead-on. “It would seem that the Empire and the Federation have both been victimized by an unknown entity of significant power.”

“You’ll understand if I say I require proof of your claims, Captain.”

“And you’ll understand that providing that proof requires answers that I don’t have available to me, Commander.” Mike opened his hands out in front of him. “But consider the situation. Consider how little the Federation has to gain from antagonizing the Empire in such a manner. Consider the dangers of ignoring the possibility that there  _ is _ an entity out there capable of annihilating our outposts so completely.”

Mianai was still scowling at him, but Mike thought that he could see a thoughtful quality to it now.

“As a show of good faith,” he said. “I am willing to return your crewman to you and to overlook this incursion--provided that you return to Romulan space  _ immediately _ and deal with this matter through diplomatic means rather than further treaty violations.”

Mianai’s lips pursed. “Your argument has… a certain logic to it. I accept the terms you offer, Captain Wheeler. Return my crewman and we will depart.” The viewscreen went blank as the transmission ended.”

Mike collapsed back into his chair with a heavy sigh. “Ms. Mayfield, have your people escort the Romulan to the transporter room for transport back to the Romulan vessel.”

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to let them go like this?” Lucas asked.

“Honestly, Lucas, I’m not sure of much of anything right now.” Mike slouched unapologetically in his seat, one hand laid across his forehead. “Except that I’m going to tear Admiral Hopper a new one for keeping that information from me.”

Lucas gave him a sideways glance. “No, you’re not,” he said.

“No, I’m not,” agreed Mike, sighing again.

- - -

The atmosphere in the  _ Hawkins’ _ canteen was relaxed, crew chattering and laughing over their drinks and food with a subtle undercurrent of relief. Mike could hardly blame them; after the events of the previous day, he was feeling pretty relieved himself. “Is anybody sitting here?” he asked.

El looked up from her tea and contemplation. “You are, now,” she replied, smiling.

“Thank you kindly,” Mike said, taking a seat across the table from her. “I don’t mean to intrude on your personal time…”

“Nonsense,” said El. “Your company is always a pleasure.”

Mike couldn’t help but grin at that. “And how does life find you today, El?”

“It finds me…” El stopped to consider her words. “Well enough, I suppose. Still a little bit rattled from everything that happened yesterday, but I’m sure I’m not alone in that.” She looked at him significantly.

“No, you’re not,” Mike admitted. “I knew that being made captain would mean occasionally being an ad hoc representative for the Federation, but… I wasn’t really expecting to end up in a situation where one misstep could start an interstellar war.”

“Well, I think you handled it brilliantly, for what that’s worth.”

“Thank you.” Mike turned his head away, slightly bashful. “That’s… actually worth a lot.”

El nodded, her gaze dropping down to the tabletop. She looked at it for several seconds, then back up at Mike. Then back down at the tabletop. Then back up at Mike. Mike watched the proceedings with mild bewilderment.

“There’s… something I want to say to you, Captain--Mike.”

Mike’s heart skipped a beat at that, although for the life of him he didn’t know why. “Speak freely. There’s no need to stand on ceremony here.”

El leaned forward, placing a hand on her chin in a thoughtful expression. Whatever it was she had to say, she was thinking about it hard. “It’s… it’s about the briefing from yesterday,” she said finally. “I just… I wanted to say thank you. I don’t know exactly what you said to Doctor Ouvens, but… it’s clear that you stuck up for me. So, thank you.”

Mike felt his eyebrows lift in equal parts surprise and amusement. “So you’re thanking me for not forcing you to go against your moral convictions?” he asked.

“Yes,” El replied with a seriousness that was soon displaced by a wry grin. “To borrow a turn of phrase from a very smart man I know… I’m grateful to you, and you’re just going to have to deal with that.”

Mike heaved a theatrical sigh even as he felt his face heat up. “Very well. I suppose that that’s a burden that I can carry.”

El giggled, hand over her mouth, and the laugh was infectious, making Mike laugh along with her. They shared the laughter together for a few moments; then, as it died down, Mike saw El turn her gaze to the side, frowning softly. He turned in his seat to look in the same direction. Lucas and Max were standing at the entrance to the canteen, having apparently just entered, and they were both staring directly at Mike and El. As Mike watched, Max turned and said something into Lucas’s ear, causing them both to dissolve into laughter. Then they turned and walked away to find their own table.

“What was that all about?” Mike asked, frowning in confusion.

“I have no idea,” El said, equally puzzled.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always had a fondness for the more political episodes of TNG-era Star Trek, so here's my take on the Romulans (with credit due to the episodes "The Neutral Zone" and "The Enemy", of course). And those of you familiar with TNG no doubt know *exactly* what those missing border posts mean. Is *that* going to come into play in the future? Only time will tell.


	8. Interpersonal Dynamics

“...at any rate, after I pulled the maneuver, the instructor told me that he didn’t know whether to give me a reprimand or a commendation.” The corners of Kali’s mouth pulled up into a wry smile. “He wound up compromising by giving me both. And I’m proud of both of them to this day.”

El laughed. “That sounds incredible.” The two of them were sitting on a field of blue grass that spread out in all directions, covering a series of gently rolling hills as far as the eye could see. Above, the sky was tinted slightly more purple than was common on the planets favored by humanoids. El had crafted the holosuite scene with care, modeling it off of her memories of a place her mother had frequently taken her as a child. “Have you ever considered challenging Commander Mayfield to a race? I would love to see that. I bet that half the ship would love to see that.”

Kali’s smile grew shy, and she ducked her gaze down. “I don’t know, that might not be entirely proper…”

“We could make it happen.” El’s eyes glittered. “I could talk to the captain about it.”

“You could,” agreed Kali, the wry smile returning in full force, and then some. “I’m willing to bet that he’d listen to you, too.”

El frowned slightly--what did she mean by that?--but before she could ask, the holosuite’s entrance signal chimed.

“Oh, crap.” Kali started to gather up the remains of the meal that they had been eating, picnic-style. “Have we used up our timeslot?”

“Only barely,” El said, moving to assist Kali. “Who is it?”

“ _ It’s Mayfield, _ ” Max’s voice answered through the comm. “ _ Sorry to interrupt, I know you’re probably just finishing up _ .”

“Huh, speak of the devil,” Kali murmured.

“Computer, end program,” El said. The scenery faded, replaced by the bare framework of the inert holosuite. She and Kali finished gathering up and crossed to the door, which opened to reveal Max waiting on the other side. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” El said. “It’s all yours.”

“Huh? Oh, no, I’m not here for the holosuite,” Max said. “Actually, I came here to find you, Lieutenant Hopper.”

El blinked. “Oh.”

- - -

“A mission?”

“A Federation colony in this system needs some technical assistance with their administrative systems,” Max said. Having deposited the remains of the meal in one of the replicator’s reclamation nooks and bid farewell to Kali, the two women were now walking through the halls of Deck 23 at a purposeful stride. “Commander Sinclair’s taking point on the mission, but we could use your expertise with the computer architecture.”

El nodded. “Seems reasonable enough. Are we expecting any complications?”

“No, it should be a relatively straightforward mission.” Max sighed. “Although the last time I thought that, I wound up nearly getting vaporized by an ancient combat automaton, so… take that as you will.”

“Noted.” El saw somebody coming down the hall towards them. Her stomach lurched unpleasantly as she saw that it was Doctor Ouvens, buried in a datapad, reading as he walked. He glanced up slightly as they approached each other, offering El a small nod and a smile. She returned the nod, but pointedly not the smile. If he noticed her coldness, he gave no indication of it, allowing himself to become reabsorbed in what he was reading as he passed them.

El turned her head slightly to watch him go, and saw that Max was watching him too. As he passed out of their range of vision, the other woman turned back to El, giving her a significant look. “It seems like you haven’t forgotten what happened,” she said.

“No,” El replied. Even the memory of it sent small coils of fury through her gut. “I’m not sure that I ever will.”

Max sighed. “I’m not sure I ever will either,” she said as they continued to walk. “For whatever that’s worth.”

“It’s going to be hard, feeling like I can’t trust him.”

“It is,” agreed Max. “But Mike seems to think that he can keep him in line. And I trust Mike.”

“I do too,” agreed El. The simple thought of it helped to uncoil the difficult feelings inside of her. Whatever she felt about Doctor Ouvens, she could trust Mike without hesitation.

Their walk took them into a turbolift and up several decks, where they disembarked and made their way to Lucas’s office. “Enter,” he called when Max hit the entrance signal.

The door slid open and Max stepped through, followed closely by El. “Commander Mayfield and Lieutenant Hopper reporting for duty,” Max said.

Lucas looked up from his desk. “Oh, good,” he said. “Lieutenant, has Commander Mayfield already explained our mission to you?”

“Yes, sir.” El nodded. “It’s my pleasure to help.”

Lucas smiled. “Good to hear. We’re about two hours out from Auberjonois, so pack your things and rendezvous in Transporter Room 3 at 1600 hours.”

- - -

The bright light of the transporter faded away, replaced by bright light of a different sort. El, Max, and Lucas were standing in a plaza in the middle of the colony of Auberjonois, which had been built up into a small city. The city was located towards the planet’s equator and near by a coastline, which explained the heat of the sun overhead and the blanket of humidity that had fallen over El’s skin, making her sweat slightly.

Max touched her combadge. “We’re down, Captain.”

“ _ Understood, Ms. Mayfield, _ ” Mike’s voice answered her. “ _ We’ll be up here, counting the hours until you return to us. _ ”

“Why, Captain,” Max said, her voice taking on a teasing tone. “Are you professing your undying love for me?”

“ _ No, that would be highly inappropriate, _ ” Mike replied mildly. “ _ I’m professing my undying love for Lucas. Good luck, my dearest, and don’t deprive me of your presence for too long. _ ”

“I’ll fly back to your arms as soon as I am able,” Lucas replied in an equally mild tone. Max snorted, while El simply raised an eyebrow.

“Ah, hello!” said a jovial voice. A slightly older man, who had apparently been waiting for them at the far side of the plaza, began to cross over. He was wearing a simple gray-and-white outfit that El could only suppose was the uniform for the colony’s administration. “The name’s Garrett,” he said, holding out a hand to Lucas. “I’m the colony’s administrator. We’ve been in contact, but--”

“Yes, it’s nice to finally put a face to the name.” Lucas shook the proffered hand. “Commander Lucas Sinclair of the  _ USS Hawkins _ . With me are Lieutenant Commander Mayfield and Lieutenant Hopper.” 

Garrett traded nods with the two of them in turn as they were introduced to him. “Pleasure to have you with us,” he said. “I appreciate you coming all the way out here to help us out.”

“That’s what Starfleet is for, Administrator,” Lucas said.

“I suppose so.” Garrett extended an arm to gesture at a nearby building. “Well, I expect you’ll want to get started as soon as possible. This way!”

El found herself drifting closer to Lucas as the group walked. His earlier exchange with Mike replayed in her mind, oddly stuck there. She knew that she shouldn’t pry, and yet she found herself intensely curious for reasons she couldn’t quite account for. “Um,” she said quietly to Lucas. “Commander, is it okay for me to ask you a personal question?”

Lucas glanced sidelong at her. “Go ahead, Lieutenant.”

El felt her face heat slightly. “Have… you and the captain ever, um, actually…?”

“Huh? Oh, no, we were just kidding around.” Lucas grinned. “Mike’s a great guy, but he’s not particularly my type. And besides… well, anyway, no.”

El wondered what he had been about to say, particularly given that his gaze had flickered over to Max when he hesitated, but she had already been nosy enough as it was.

They walked into one of the buildings ringing the plaza--the tallest one, El noted, which she supposed made sense--then through the lobby, and into a turbolift that took them up to the higher floors of the building. “Here we are,” Garrett said as the doors slid open. “Our system’s central architecture is all this floor, and the console will give you root access.” The console in question occupied a central position on the wall opposite from the turbolift door, and with the exception of a central bit left open as a walkway, the remainder of the space was filled with rows upon rows of servers. “I’ll leave you all to it,” Garrett added as El, Max, and Lucas piled out of the turbolift. “If you need anything…” He reached out and pointed at a comm system, mounted on the wall next to the turbolift. Lucas nodded in understanding, and Garrett disappeared behind the closing turbolift doors.

“All right, Hopper, time for you to work your magic,” Max said as they approached the console. “What is it that we need to fix anyway?”

“Finding that out is step one,” El said. “We got a list of errors the system’s encountered over the last several weeks, but they’re so widespread and varied that it’s hard to trace them back to any single cause. So I’ll need to run a diagnostic…”

“It must be something pretty bad if it causes that many errors,” Lucas commented.

“It could be,” agreed El. “Or there could be multiple issues that need to be resolved. Let’s see here…” The system was fairly standard Starfleet issue, the sort they routinely handed out to fledgeling colonies, so she found her way around it with ease. “Running diagnostic now.” A stream of results spun across the screen, and El watched them with a growing sense of confusion. “Wait… what?” she muttered to herself.

“Something wrong?” Max asked.

“This doesn’t make any…” El’s confusion gave way to a mounting sense of horror. “Oh.  _ Oh _ . Oh no.” She let out a groan. “They’ve customized it.”

“...is that a problem?” Lucas asked.

“It is when they’re this bad at it,” El answered. Error messages were starting to flash up now, one after the other. And if she was having this much trouble just running the diagnostic, then actually untangling the system would be… “Good grief,” she sighed. “I don’t think I could’ve messed up the system worse if I’d been deliberately sabotaging it.”

“So… what does that mean?” Lucas asked.

“It means you should probably tell the captain that we’re going to be here a lot longer than we thought.”

El dove headfirst into the system. The mess was everything she’d feared it would be and more: modifications to existing systems, entirely new systems built up from scratch and grafted on like some sort of mad digital Frankenstein… none of which would have been bad in the abstract--some of it even struck El as rather clever--save that whoever had been doing the modifications was clearly a rank amateur, kludging together the bare minimum to make their ideas work and then calling it a day. El’s focus narrowed to a tunnel as she worked--some things she could get away with simply refining their connections to the base system, but she was going to need to redo others from the ground up, and  _ damn _ this was going to take a while…

“Lieutenant? Lieutenant. Lieutenant Hopper. Hello. Hello.” A hand waved in front of El’s face, snapping her concentration like slicing through a taut elastic band. El looked up and saw that the hand belonged to Max. “Shift’s up. You’re off-duty.”

“I’m not done,” El said, trying to turn her attention back to the console.

“Obviously,” Max said, rolling her eyes. “Look, at this point it’s clearly going to be a multi-day job, so let’s call it a night and get some rest. You can get back to work tomorrow morning.”

El shook her head. “I have a few more things that I want to--”

“ _ Lieutenant Hopper _ .” Max crossed her arms. “Am I going to have to call up the captain and tell him that you’re insisting on overworking yourself again? Because you and I both know he’s going to have some feelings about that.”

El’s stomach fluttered slightly. Yes, Mike absolutely would have some feelings about her refusing to take a break--he’d made that unequivocally clear on several previous occasions. “Fine,” she conceded. “I can pick up where I left off tomorrow morning, then. Are we beaming back up to the  _ Hawkins _ for the night?”

“Nah,” Max said. “The locals are going to put us up for as long as we need to finish the job. Come on, it’s just across the way.”

Back down the turbolift they went, back through the lobby, out the door, and across the plaza. Their destination was a wide, squat building that had been set aside as temporary living quarters for visitors to the colony. It wasn’t quite a hotel, per se, since the colony hadn’t advanced to that point yet, but it served essentially the same function. Lucas was in the lobby finishing up a conversation with the person at the front desk.

“Arrangements are complete,” he said, turning to Max and El as they approached. “It looks like they’re a little loaded up at the moment, so you two are going to have to share a room… apologies for that.” He smiled sheepishly.

“Oh,” El said, looking uncertainly back and forth between Lucas and Max. “Are… are you two not sharing a room?”

The reaction to her question was immediate; Lucas’s eyes shot wide open, and Max blushed so fiercely that her face nearly matched her hair. “That is--I mean--” El continued, fumbling to recover from whatever it was that she’d just done. “Th-that’s fine, Commander! Um, Commander Mayfield, why don’t we…” She set off for the turbolift, Max trailing mutely behind her.

The turbolift ride to their floor was one of the most intensely awkward that El had ever experienced, with her and Max standing together in silence, both staring resolutely straight ahead. After a few seconds that felt significantly longer, the door slid open and they both strode out, the awkwardness following them down the hall and into the double room they were going to be sharing. It was a fairly simple, functional living space with two bunks, a small replicator nook, and a bathroom; their bags had already been brought up and left on the beds.

Max moved quickly and purposefully across the room, going to her bag and starting to sort through her belongings. El lingered just inside the doorway, trying to put words together in her head. “Commander,” she said. “I’m sorry if I made you and Commander Sinclair feel uncomfortable. I suppose I just assumed that you two… well, I shouldn’t have.”

Max sighed and turned around, finally looking at El. “No need to apologize,” she said. “It just caught us both a bit off-guard, that’s all. Things have been… complicated between us, since we started serving aboard the  _ Hawkins _ . I can see how people might draw the conclusion that we’re dating.” She flopped down on the bed. “Maybe we have been dating. I don’t know. Like I said… complicated.”

El crossed the room and sat down on the edge of her bed, facing Max. “Well, if you’d like to talk about it…”

“What is there to say?” Max said. “I mean, I don’t even understand why I’m so shy about the whole thing. I’m  _ never _ shy about it when I’m interested in someone. I usually just walk right up to them and ask them if they’re interested too.” She turned her head to look at El. “Well, usually, anyway. If I think they’re going to be into it. Like,  _ you’re _ plenty cute, but…”

El felt herself blush. “Oh--I mean--I never really thought about--”

“Relax.” Max grinned. “I’m not going to proposition you. It’s pretty obvious that your attention is elsewhere.”

El smiled back at her. “I suppose I do tend to bury myself in my work.”

“Oh. Well, yeah, there’s that, but--” Max was frowning at her, puzzled. “Well, I was talking about… you know.”

El shook her head slowly, confused.

“Oh.  _ Oh _ . Um--you know what, never mind, forget I said anything.” Max turned her gaze back up to the ceiling with a heavy sigh. “Anyway. It’s different with Lucas, and I don’t know why. Maybe because we dated back when we were in the Academy? But that was ten years ago--we’d have as good as a fresh start at this point. Argh, none of this makes any sense.”

“It would seem,” El commented, “that despite your protestations to the contrary, there is actually quite a bit to say on the matter.”

Max lifted her head up from the bed, startled, then broke out into a fit of laughter. “Damn. How do you manage to be so serious and yet so funny at the same time? You’re interesting, Hopper.”

El smiled shyly. “You know… if you want, you can just call me El. When we’re off-duty.”

“Sure thing… El.” Max grinned. “You know that means that you have to call me Max, though, right?”

“Max…” It felt strange to El, addressing her superior officer by her given name.  _ You don’t have a problem calling the actual captain of your ship by his given name, _ murmured one of the more logical parts of her mind. She waved the thought away; that was different, even if she couldn’t quite explain why. “Yes, of course.”

- - -

The next day found El plunging into battle with the administrative system again. Begrudgingly, she had to admit that Max had been right to make her stop for the night last night; the evening’s rest followed by a night’s sleep had refreshed her and realigned her focus, allowing her to tear into the work with redoubled intensity. Lucas was on standby as her backup, acting as a go-between whenever she needed to request something from the colony administration or the  _ Hawkins _ so that she could remain focused on her work.

Having finished disentangling a particularly thorny subsystem, El leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes for a moment and taking a few deep breaths in and out. There was a soft  _ beep _ from behind her, and she heard Lucas mutter, “Three hours, twenty-one minutes.”

El spun in her chair, fixing him with a look. “Are you  _ timing _ me?”

“Oh, I was just seeing how long you would go before you stopped for a break,” Lucas said, looking up from the device he was holding. “For, um, official purposes, you understand.”

El continued to glare at him.

“...Max and I had a bet going,” Lucas admitted.

El’s lips pursed in an effort to contain the smile that was threatening to break out over her face--a valiant fight that was ultimately lost. “Who won?” she asked.

“Max did,” Lucas said with a sigh. “She always does. I don’t know why I keep making bets with her…”

El nodded slowly. The subject of Max reminded her of the incident from the previous evening--Lucas’s dumbfounded expression, looking like he would fall over at the merest touch. She hadn’t talked to him about it yet. “I’m, ah, sorry about last night, by the way,” she said lightly, turning back to the console.

“Huh? Oh, you mean--don’t worry about it, you just caught us by surprise, is all,” Lucas replied. El huffed out a breath of laughter at Lucas unknowingly repeating Max’s words from earlier. “Yeah, no, you’re by no means the only one who’s made that assumption,” he continued. “And you’re by far the least obnoxious about it. I had to threaten Dustin with latrine duty to get him to shut up.”

“I can imagine,” El said. She began working at her next task, slowly, attention still half on the conversation. “I’ve probably been talking to him too much--I shouldn’t have assumed you two were dating just because you’re spending time together.”

“Well…” Lucas said, drawing out the word. “I don’t know if Max said anything about it to you…”

“Her sentiments could be succinctly summed up as ‘it’s complicated’,” El replied.

Lucas laughed. “Straightforward, blunt, and accurate. Sounds like her. I guess I would say that… we’re not dating, but we’re also not  _ not _ dating, if that makes sense.”

El glanced at him over her shoulder. “Syntactically, yes. Semantically… I’m having a bit of trouble wrapping my head around it.”

“You and me both.” Lucas paused for long enough that El assumed he was done and began working in earnest on her task, only for him to suddenly speak again. “It’s not as if I don’t want to. And if I know her at all--and I’m pretty sure I do--she wants to as well. We had some pretty good times together in the Academy. Things just feel… so  _ different _ now.”

“Understandable.” Abandoning all hope of being productive while this conversation was happening, El spun herself back around. “It has been a decade, give or take. People change.”

“They do, though not as much as you’d think. Circumstances sure as hell change, though.” Lucas pulled a face. “I mean, not to put too fine a point on it--I outrank her now. And not just in an abstract sense. She reports to me.”

“Fraternization’s not against regulations, strictly speaking,” El said.

“Strictly speaking, no,” Lucas said. “But it does make things tricky, and you’d be an idiot to ignore that. Not that I would ever take advantage of my rank with Max--even if I were inclined to, which I’m  _ really _ not, Mike’s made it clear that he would kick my ass to hell and back if I tried.”

El smiled. “How gallant of him.” The statement was meant in fun, but she found herself meaning it.

“I think it’s his way of encouraging me to go for it. He knows that I’m most comfortable with somebody keeping me honest.” Lucas shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s not really a fraternization issue for me. The rank gap… it just feels like it could make things weird.” He looked up at El. “I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.”

“...what makes you say that?” El asked, frowning in confusion.

“Oh, well, because…” Lucas blinked. “You know, because… you and… I mean, aren’t you…?”

“Aren’t I what?”

“Uh… never mind, forget I said anything.”

“People are saying that to me a lot, these last few days.” El turned back away from Lucas, refocusing herself on the console. “Permission to speak frankly, Commander?”

“You mean as opposed to what we’ve been doing the last few minutes?”

El conceded the point with a quiet laugh. “You’ve got a lot of difficult questions on your mind, and if you’re hoping for me to answer them for you, I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed. I’m the operations officer, not the ship’s counselor.”

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean to imply--”

“As far as my advice goes, though,” continued El, “you told me that you’re not dating Max, and that you’re also not not dating Max. That is a logical impossibility. You’re either dating her, or you’re not dating her. Either your concerns are insurmountable, or they’re not.”

“I mean, you’re glossing over a lot of nuance there--”

“Yes, I am, because nuance is where people tend to get themselves hopelessly stuck. And that’s where you and Max are, right now. You’re stuck.” El sighed. “I won’t tell you what decision to make, Commander, but I will tell you that you need to make one. If you don’t, you’re going to end up regretting a lot of wasted time.”

Lucas stood behind her in stunned silence for several moments. “Damn,” he chuckled at last. “You really go for the throat when you speak frankly, don’t you?”

“Communicating clearly and unambiguously is a critical skill for an operations officer,” El replied with a matter-of-fact smile.

“No wonder you’re so good at your job.” Lucas sighed. “Well, I’m going to go replicate some coffee and contemplate what you said to me. You want me to get anything for you?”

“Tarkalean tea, please. Unsweetened.” El heard the turbolift doors open and close as Lucas exited, and focused herself back in on the console.

- - -

“That sounds like an utter nightmare,” Kali said, looking vaguely disgusted.

“I still see code every time I close my eyes,” El agreed. The two of them were sitting across from each other at one of the smaller tables in the  _ Hawkins _ canteen. “I had the  _ weirdest _ dreams last night after I got back, you have no idea.”

“If they were anything like the ones I get when I’m in the middle of making holodeck programs, they must have been pretty weird.”

El shivered. “Anyway, I documented all the major changes I made to the system and put them together with a few… pointers on how to more smoothly integrate future customizations. I presented it to the administrator right before we left. He acted like I’d done  _ him  _ a favor.” She took a sip of her tea. “It took an extra half a day, but if it means that nobody else has to go through what I went through in those three days… well worth the effort.”

“Your selflessness is an inspiration to us all,” Kali said dryly.

“I do my best,” El replied with serene modesty. “Speaking of holodeck programs, have you been working on anything new lately?”

“Only a little bit,” Kali said. “I’ve been playing around with some ideas for adapting some old myths from my region of Earth. Helm duty’s been keeping me busy, though.”

“Isn’t that always the way?” El drained the last of her tea, tilting her head back and upturning the cup to get the last drops into her mouth. “On that note, I should get going, here.”

“Didn’t you just finish telling me about spending the last three days straight buried in work?” Kali asked, eyebrow raised.

“Yes, and now I have more,” El replied. “No rest for the wicked, as I’m told the saying goes.” She rose from her seat, exchanging farewells with Kali, dropped her cup in the replicator’s reclamation nook, and left the canteen. Her feet carried her on the familiar route through the  _ Hawkins _ ’ hallways, down the hall, up the turbolift, down another hall, and around the corner…

...right up to where Max had Lucas pressed up against the wall, their lips locked together in a frantic dance.

“Oh!” El yelped in surprise. The two of them pulled apart, startled, their heads snapping around to look at her. “I am so sorry,” El said, backing away as she flushed red. “I am so,  _ so _ sorry…”

Max and Lucas shared a look between them and then dissolved into laughter. “I told you somebody was going to walk in on us if we did this in the hallway,” Lucas said.

“Oh, come on, it’s just El,” Max replied. “Like we haven’t both poured our hearts out to her about this already.”

“You… did both do that, yes,” El said, smiling slightly, the blush still heating up her face. “I take this to mean that you made your decision, Commander.”

“Oh, please, just say ‘Lucas’. Once you’ve heard me moan about my love life and walked in on me kissing my partner… we’re there.” Lucas smiled. “And yes, someone very smart encouraged me to go ahead and make a decision, so I decided… what the hell.”

“ _ We _ decided what the hell,” Max corrected him. “Turns out, making out with each other is just as fun as it was a decade ago. Funny, huh?”

“Glad to hear it,” El said. “Well, I have somewhere to be, and I don’t want to keep you two when you have, um, business to attend to, so…”

“Hey, wait,” Lucas said as she brushed past them, prompting her to stop and turn back around. “El… thanks, really. For listening to our bullshit, if nothing else.”

“It was more helpful than you realize,” added Max. “And good luck to you in your own endeavors.”

“Er… you’re welcome.” El frowned. “I don’t know what you mean about my endeavors, though.”

Max and Lucas shared a glance, then turned back to El with identical mischievous smiles on their faces. “Forget we said anything,” they said together.

“Oh, for--” El turned and strode away down the hall, leaving the two of them to their disgusting nonsense.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I had intended for this chapter to have a plot, but I couldn't come up with one that I liked, so it wound up turning into 4.7k words of people talking about relationships. And to be honest, I'm pretty pleased with the way it came out. Don't fret if you're here for the space action and adventure--there'll be plenty of that in the next chapter, I promise >:)


	9. In Between

_ “Science officer’s log: Holy shit, I’m so nervous for this briefing that I don’t even have words to describe it. I’ve already discussed the results of my cross-dimensional experiments, but now I’m looking at an entire new chapter in my research. I’m going to be pitching my most ambitious experiment yet to Mike. This could, quite literally, open up whole new worlds to us…” _

Dustin cleared his throat. “So,” he began, trying to project confidence. Everybody at the ready room’s briefing table had their eyes trained on him--the  _ Hawkins’ _ entire senior staff, Mike, Lucas, Max, Will, and El. Normally Dustin didn’t even think about things like stage fright when he was in the flow of talking about science, but today was a special occasion. He glanced over each shoulder, where Steve and Robin were standing at ease behind him, flanking him like bodyguards. “Everybody remembers that, uh, dimensional breach incident from a couple of months back, right?”

“The one where you let some kind of extradimensional creature onto the ship?” Max asked dryly. “Hard to forget, it took me an entire day to finish filing the incident reports.”

“Um… right, that one.” Dustin swallowed. “Well, I’ve been following up on it since then-- _ carefully _ ,” he added, flicking a glance at Mike, “in an effort to try and understand what exactly it was that I tapped into there.”

Will raised a sly eyebrow; he’d been intimately involved in those efforts, and hadn’t been shy about letting Dustin know what a headache the technical requirements for his equipment were. He was smiling, though, which gave Dustin a burst of courage to push on. “I think I’ve found the answer--or at least, I’ve found the beginnings of one. I’ve confirmed my initial hypothesis that it was some sort of interstitial dimensional space--that is, it exists sort of  _ between _ the parallel realities that we’re familiar with. At first, I assumed that it was merely pseudodimensional space--”

“--that’s, like, similar to subspace,” Robin put in. “That is to say, it has  _ space _ , and certain properties associated with that, but not, say, an environment or terrain the way normal material space does.”

“But then you run into the question,” Steve added, “where did that life-form come from? And like, not only can this interstitial dimensional space generate and support life, but the thing that came onto the  _ Hawkins _ had, like, legs and stuff--clearly adapted to an environment that has, well, ground, for starters.”

“Right,” Dustin said, taking the thread back up from his cohorts. “So I started poking at it a little harder, and while my results are vague, I’m nearly certain that this interstitial space  _ does _ host some kind of terrain--maybe even terrain that’s not that different from what we know.”

Dustin stopped to gauge his audience. Will and El were both totally absorbed, paying rapt attention as he spoke. Lucas and Mike were engaged but slightly distant, with what Dustin often referred to as ‘layman’s interest’. Max’s eyes had glazed over, but that was fine, she wasn’t the one he was going to have to convince here. “Given my results,” Dustin continued, “I’ve begun to believe that it would be possible for us to cross over into the interstitial dimensional space--to send over an actual  _ expedition _ to see what’s on the other side.”

That was the bomb, and he saw it go off across the table. Will and El looked at him like he’d just blown their minds, while Max looked at him like he’d lost his. Lucas just glanced over at Mike, who was staring through Dustin in that totally unreadable way that always stressed Dustin out. “So you have a proposal for this expedition, I take it?” Mike said finally.

Dustin’s lips twitched into a grin of their own accord, out of equal parts excitement and nervousness. “Yes, sir, I do,” he replied. “This is going to require a large dimensional breach, of course, the largest stable breach I’ve ever created. Now, obviously it’s too risky to have it on board the  _ Hawkins _ \--yes, I  _ do _ recognize that, Max, so you can stop looking at me like that--so I’m thinking, we find some uninhabited planet or planetoid and run the experiment there. If I’m figuring this correctly, we should basically just be able to… walk right through the breach.”

“Yeah, once we actually  _ open _ it, which is basically all of the technical headaches of the last couple of months rolled into one,” grumbled Will, but he couldn’t hide his expression of excitement, nor was it lost on Dustin that Will was assuming the experiment would proceed. He’d gotten one of them hooked.

“This is… intriguing,” El commented. “An ambitious experiment for sure--and I can’t even imagine what we’d find.” Make that two hooked.

“Well? What do you say, Captain?” Dustin asked.

Mike stared into him for a long moment before breaking out into a wide grin. “Well, I can’t disagree with Lieutenant Hopper that it’s intriguing. And for once you seem to have bothered to think up appropriate safety precautions. Very well, let’s investigate this interstat--innersit--” He grimaced, the gravity of the pronouncement ruined by his tangled tongue. “Interstitial… dimensional space?”

“It’s a bit of a mouthful, isn’t it?” Dustin said, beaming. “I’ve just taken to calling it the In-Between.”

- - -

The planet they wound up selecting for the experiment was oddly scenic for being uninhabited, rolling grassy hills broken up here and there by rocky outcroppings. It put Dustin somewhat in mind of the North American plains back on Earth, if maybe not quite that flat. 

He tugged uncomfortably at his collar. The Starfleet hazardous environment suit was a robust piece of clothing, made from thick, stiff material that felt strange to wear compared to the soft comfort of his normal uniform. Robin and Steve were both wearing haz suits as well, performing final adjustments and checking over each other. The suits were a deep, dark grey, the only splash of color being a line of science division blue running across the breast. Each of them also carried a helmet under their arm (well, Steve’s was between his knees as he pulled at part of his suit with both hands) that would seal on over the high collar, giving them decent protection if the environment of the In-Between turned out to be hostile.

“Are we all ready to go, then?” Will had come up behind Dustin; he was wearing a haz suit nearly identical to theirs, save that his stripe was operations yellow.

“Oh,” Steve said, looking up. “You’re coming with us, Commander?”

“Yes,” Will said, with a look that somehow perfectly communicated  _ you should know this already, and it worries me that you don’t _ . “The Captain wanted there to be at least one responsible adult along on this excursion.”

“Is that so?” Robin asked, eyebrows raised. “What does that make  _ me _ , then?”

“What does that make  _ us _ , you mean?” Steve said. Robin just looked at him.

“No offense meant, of course,” Will said with a slightly apologetic smile. “It’s just that since I outrank Dustin, I can start giving him orders if it comes down to that.”

“It won’t come down to that,” Dustin grumbled. “I know you all think I’m some kind of reckless mad scientist--”

“--an impression you’ve reinforced constantly over the years--”

“--but I’m on top of this, okay? I know what I’m getting into, here.”

“I thought the point was that you  _ don’t _ know what you’re getting into?” Will’s eyes were sparkling mischievously. “Anyway, the  _ other _ reason I’m here is because I can provide technical support on the other side of the breach. Unless you’re okay with risking equipment failure in the middle of an unknown environment?”

“Fine, I guess you can stay, then.” Dustin’s tone was joking, but he quickly switched back to seriousness; it was time for him to start acting like the head of the expedition. “Alright, equipment check. Everybody have everything they’re supposed to have?” 

“Check,” Will said.

“Check,” Robin said.

“Uh, check,” Steve said.

“Oh, Harrington!” Dustin had nearly forgotten in the shuffle of preparations. “Actually, I have one extra piece of equipment for you. Hang on…” He rooted through the pile of equipment that was sitting next to the breach site and quickly found what he was looking for. It was a stick of metal, about a meter in length, with one end bulging out into a spiked knob and the other fashioned into a grip that could fit both hands. “Here,” he said, presenting it to Steve.

“Uh…” Steve hesitated, staring blankly at the unfamiliar object.

“It’s custom-replicated--I designed the pattern myself, based on old weapons from the medieval era. I just, um, noticed that you seem to have an easier time in melee than you do with your phaser, so I figured something like this might work a little better for personal defense…” Dustin scuffed a foot awkwardly on the ground, hoping he hadn’t just offended Steve by running his mouth.

He needn’t have worried; Steve’s face lit up as he took the mace from Dustin and gave it a couple of experimental swings. “Damn, that is some  _ nice _ balance,” he said. “Thanks, Henderson, this is… this is awesome.”

Robin and Will were sharing a look between them as if Dustin had just handed a knife to a toddler, but as far as he was concerned they could both eat it. “All right, equipment check okay,” he said. “Helmets on.” The four of them donned their suits’ helmets with a slight hissing as the seals activated. Dustin pressed his ring finger to his thumb, activating the suit’s built-in comm. “Henderson to  _ Hawkins _ . Final preparations are complete and we’re ready to open the breach.”

“ _ Acknowledged, Mr. Henderson, _ ” Mike’s voice said in his ear. “ _ We’ll be monitoring from up here. Good luck. _ ”

“Thanks, Mike.” Dustin lifted his hand in a thumbs-up gesture, signaling to the technicians on standby, a mixture of science and operations crew. They went to work at their various stations. The machine they’d set up on the planet’s surface had a lot of peripheral power and control stations, but everything was centered around a large metal frame that was currently bracketing empty air. Dustin knew it wouldn’t be empty for long, though--after all, he’d designed the machine himself.

Activated, the device hummed with power, and as the four of them watched, a small mote appeared in the center of the frame, glowing bright orange. The mote grew in size, until it stopped looking like a mote and started resembling a  _ tear _ , as though the air itself was ripping apart to reveal what lay behind. Which… wasn’t  _ entirely _ inaccurate, Dustin reflected.

The breach stabilized, a ragged hole in space, its edges burning orange. Behind the glow, Dustin could make out filigrees of… something, he wasn’t sure what, crisscrossing the opening. It was just wide enough that the members of the expedition would be able to walk through in single file.

Dustin swallowed. “Henderson to  _ Hawkins _ . The breach is open and we’re about to pass through.”

With that, he stepped forward and into the breach, and found himself in the In-Between.

He heard Robin gasp over the comm. “Holy--”

“--shit,” Steve finished.

At first glance, it didn’t seem like much had changed--they were in a rolling grassland not unlike the one they’d just stepped out of. The more Dustin looked around, though, the more differences jumped out at him. The light level was significantly lower; the sky overhead seemed densely overcast, or possibly just naturally grey somehow. The grass, on second examination, looked sickly, possibly even dead, and the ground was crisscrossed with… something. Dustin bent to examine it. It was some kind of organic growth, black and slightly oily, which crumbled into mulch under his glove as he touched it. It almost put him in mind of rot, something that had decayed away until it barely had any substance left.

And then, of course, there were the strange white particles floating in the air. Dustin grabbed at them experimentally, but they flowed around his hand, defying his grip. He wasn’t sure if they reminded him of ash, or drifting cotton, or something else entirely.

“Well, this is…” Will sounded like he was about to make another of his quips, but his sarcasm failed him mid-sentence and he trailed off.

“This is… wild,” supplied Robin. She had her tricorder out and was absorbed in scanning their surroundings. “Okay, keep those helmets on, everyone. There’s something resembling an atmosphere here, but it’s not reading as particularly friendly to humanoids.”

“Nothing about this place seems particularly friendly,” Will muttered, and despite a momentary urge to chide his friend for a lack of scientific spirit, Dustin found himself agreeing. The scenery wasn’t going to be written up in any travel brochures anytime soon, sure, but it was more than that--some kind of sensation creeping down the back of his neck, something in his lizard brain whispering  _ danger _ .

Shaking the sensation off, he activated his comm. “Henderson to  _ Hawkins _ . We’re through the breach. Do you read me?”

His breath hitched as his comm spat static back at him, but Mike’s voice broke through it, garbled but audible. “ _ We read you, Mr. Henderson. Looks like the comm signal’s passing through the breach okay. How’s it look in there? _ ”

“It looks, um…” Dustin gazed around the landscape. “I don’t know how to describe it, Captain. It’s like some kind of twisted echo of the place we came from. Darker, and just the slightest bit… dead.”

There was a pause, either from transmission lag or from Mike stopping to absorb what he’d just been told. “ _ Are you okay to proceed? _ ” he asked at last.

Dustin clenched his jaw. “We haven’t gone to all this trouble just to chicken out now. We’re proceeding with the expedition--I’ll check in again in fifteen minutes. Henderson out.” He waved the other members of the group forward, and they set off, trudging across the rotten ground.

“What are we looking at here, Henderson?” Steve asked as they walked.

Dustin was fiddling with his tricorder. “I couldn’t possibly say anything for sure until we get all this data back to the  _ Hawkins _ and I run a thorough analysis on it,” he said. “Anything I say right now would be strictly speculation.”

“Alright, so speculate.”

“Well…” Dustin sighed. “Aside from some obvious differences that seem to be linked to the nature of this dimension somehow, the terrain’s basically identical to the terrain in our dimension, right? And we know that this is a dimensional space in between two closely related parallel realities. So maybe we’re looking at some kind of… double reflection?”

“Reflection?” Steve asked. Dustin could hear the frown of puzzlement in his voice.

“Yeah,” Dustin said. “Or no, think of it more like… the two realities are casting a shadow. It’s like a shadow, except the shadow is a three-dimensional space. Does that make more sense?”

“Well, if this is some kind of dimensional shadow, they’ve certainly got the ambience down,” Robin commented.

“I’ll admit, I was expecting something that looked… less like it came out of a horror program,” Dustin agreed. “But science calls on us to look at the universe and accept it as it is, not as we think it should be.” The sentiment came out of his mouth sounding a little flat, possibly because he still had that itch of  _ danger _ in the back of his brain.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Steve said, voice dropping to a whisper. “I’ve got something.”

“You don’t need to whisper, dingus, we’re on comms,” Robin said.

“What’ve you got, Ensign?” Will asked.

“Oh. Um,” Steve said, returning to normal volume. “I’m picking up something… moving, about a quarter klick away.”

“Something moving?” Dustin asked, trying to home in on the reading on his own tricorder.

“Yeah. I mean, it’s not reading as a life sign, but that’s not really surprising, is it? Whatever lives out here, it’s got to be way different from life as we know it in our dimension.”

“It is,” agreed Dustin, recalling what little he’d been able to piece together from the corpse of the extradimensional creature from the last incident. “Got it. Looks like it’s just a ways over, in the one o’clock direction.”

“So we’re heading  _ toward _ the anomalous reading that’s likely to be an unknown and potentially hostile life-form?” Will asked.

“We’re Starfleet, Will. It’s what we do,” Dustin said. “You want a safe job, go work on a freighter somewhere.”

“Some days I’m really tempted,” muttered Will, but he followed as the group picked up their pace, moving fast and low towards the source of the reading. 

“Hold up!” Steve said after a couple of minutes as they approached a particularly steep incline. “I’m placing the reading on the other side of this ridge. Henderson, what about you?”

“Same here,” Dustin agreed. “All right, easy does it, everybody. I think it’ll be better if we can avoid alerting… whatever this thing is.” Together, they crept up the incline, dropping to their stomachs at the top so that they could peek over the ridge while keeping their bodies concealed.

“Oh  _ shit _ ,” Steve said.

There was something on the other side of the ridge, all right, something familiar and unfamiliar in equal measure. In some ways it resembled the creature that had been loosed onto the  _ Hawkins _ , which was no doubt the reason for Steve’s outburst; Dustin recognized the nearly featureless lump of a head that he knew could unfurl into a flower-like maw lined with teeth. It was substantially larger, however, larger even than the average humanoid, and the body structure was slightly different, a compromise between bipedal and quadrupedal that would’ve put Dustin in mind of an ape if it weren’t so lanky.

As they watched, another pair of dark shapes crept out from beneath the ridge--was there a cavern beneath them?--two of the more familiar doglike creatures, which approached the larger creature cautiously. It whirled on them and opened its maw to let out an ungodly screech that sent the four members of the group diving behind the ridge for cover.

“I don’t think it saw us,” Robin breathed.

“Oh man,” Dustin said. “Will, what do you think that was? Two different subspecies, or maybe some kind of pack alpha? Do these things have a social structure?”

“Don’t ask me, I just fix starships,” Will said. “Though if they  _ did _ have a social structure, that would be interesting--that would imply an entire environmental niche hiding in here, literally between realities…”

“Uh, guys?” Steve said, looking up at the sky.

“There might be an entire  _ ecosystem _ here,” Dustin said. “I mean, it doesn’t  _ look _ like it could support very much life, but then again, life could work very differently here--”

“ _ Guys! _ ” This time Steve and Robin were yelling in unison, and Will and Dustin’s heads snapped up to follow their gaze. The clouds above them--if that’s what they were--had thickened so they were almost pitch-black, and begun to roil fiercely. As Dustin watched, they were lit from the inside by a flash of red lightning.

“What is that…?” Dustin breathed.

“I don’t know, but I don’t think it’s a coincidence that it’s right above us,” Will said. “We should--”

Before he could finish his sentence, the clouds parted, swirling open to emit something dark and flowing, like thick smoke or living shadow. The smoke resolved itself into a thick, massive blob above them, which sprouted long tendrils like spider legs. Then another knot of smoke emerged from the blob, sticking out forward almost like a head, and Dustin was hit by the mad impression that it was  _ looking _ down at them.

The itch of  _ danger _ in the back of his mind crescendoed into a scream.

“Um, we come in peace?” Steve offered weakly.

“ _ Run! _ ” Will yelled.

He didn’t have to convince them. They jumped to their feet and took off at a sprint, stumbling their way down the incline and back the way that they had come. Dustin didn’t dare look behind him as he ran, but he could  _ feel _ the thing in the sky following them, with a certainty that drove his legs to keep going even as they began to burn with the effort. “Henderson to  _ Hawkins _ ,” he panted into his comm as he ran. “We have encountered an unknown entity or phenomenon--we are retreating back to the breach at full speed--please stand by to--”

“ _ Mr. Henderson? _ ” Mike’s voice crackled back, barely audible. “ _ Dustin? Can you hear me? What’s going on in there? _ ”

“Entity--or phenomenon--of unknown disposition and nature--like it’s made of  _ shadow _ or something--it seems to be pursuing us--”

Dustin was interrupted by the sound of Will crying out over the comm, and he chanced a glance back over his shoulder to look. Will must have stumbled over something, because he was sprawled out on the ground, struggling to get to his feet as the shadow thing reached for him with one of its tendrils.

“Will!” Dustin screamed as the tendril flowed onto and around his friend. “ _ Will! _ ”

- - -

Will woke in a dark void.

With a start, he realized that he wasn’t alone--somebody was standing close by, watching him. No, not just somebody. He’d recognize that person anywhere, the frazzled red hair and the delicately shaped features that looked so much like his own.

“Mom?” he asked.

Joyce Byers cocked her head to the side quizzically. “Mom?” she asked, mimicking his cadence.

“What?” Will blinked, trying to pull his thoughts together. “Mom, what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” Joyce repeated, head still cocked to the side. “What’s wrong? What’s wrong?”

Will’s blood froze.

“You’re not her,” he said quietly. “Who are you?”

“Who are you?” Not-Joyce’s eyes fixed onto his. “Who are you?”

Will straightened himself up as best he could. “Will...” he said, voice wavering slightly. “Lieutenant Commander William Byers of the  _ USS Hawkins _ .”

“William Byers…  _ USS Hawkins _ …” An unnerving light appeared in not-Joyce’s eyes. Without warning, she lunged at will, hands lashing out to clutch at his head. Will cried out; her fingers were digging so hard into his temples that it felt like they were burrowing through his skull and into his brain. “William Byers,” not-Joyce said, the look in her eyes growing stronger and more unnerving. “ _ USS Hawkins _ . Starfleet. United Federation of Planets.”

“What…?” Will gasped as he struggled against her grip. “What are you doing to me?”

“What am I doing? What am I doing to you?” She made a sound that was only a laugh in the strictest technical sense of the term; hearing it made Will feel like somebody was running a finger up and down his spinal cord.

“Get… off!” he screamed. “ _ Get off of me! _ ” With one final effort, he wrenched his head free of her grip--

There were hands clutching him beneath his armpits; he was being dragged along the ground. “Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit,” he heard Dustin saying. They were still in the In-Between, but the light had changed, something bright at the edges of his vision. Will stirred enough to lift his head and look. He saw Steve and Robin silhouetted against sheets of flame that had erupted from the ground. As he watched, Robin trained her phaser and let out an overcharged burst that traced a line along the ground, creating another wall of fire. Behind it, something shrieked.

“My battery’s dead,” she reported, clipped and tense. “Steve, I need yours.” Grimly, Steve unholstered his phaser and tossed it to her left-handed. His right hand was clutching the handle of his mace--Will could see dark blood, nearly black, dripping from the head.

A sudden spasm wrenched Will’s head back; he was back in the void, not-Joyce’s fingers were digging into his scalp again. “Stop!” he screamed.

“Stop?” she said, repeating it as a question before giving another of her horrible laughs. “Who? Who are you? No. Where? Where… are you… from?”

Will’s knees buckled. “Federation…” he gasped, clutching feebly at her wrists.

“Federation. United Federation of Planets. Where?”

“A… Alpha Quadrant…”

Not-Joyce grunted in annoyance, and her fingers flexed, making Will scream in pain as they dug deeper into his head. “Alpha Quadrant. Where… is… Alpha Quadrant?”

“Th-the breach… through the breach…”

Not-Joyce’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully; Will sucked in a gasp of relief as her grip relaxed just the tiniest bit. “Through the breach…” she repeated. “The breach… hole… between worlds.” The unnerving light returned to her eyes. “Between… your world… and mine.”

“Your world…?” Will asked, eyes widening.

“ _ Will! _ ” Dustin’s voice came as though from far away. “ _ Will, stop! What are you--ughk-- _ ”

“What?” Will was back in his body. Dustin was flat on his back underneath him, Will’s hands around his throat, squeezing of their own accord. “No… no no no no no no!” Will cried, but his mouth didn’t move and the words didn’t come out.

Arms wrapped around him from behind, pulling him off of Dustin, who sucked in a ragged breath as Will’s hands were torn from his throat. Will’s arm moved, sliding back to slam his elbow into the stomach of his assailant; Steve grunted as the wind was knocked from him and released his grip. Will’s body turned and began launching a series of punches into Steve’s torso, right-left-right-left-right-left…

“No!” Will screamed, unheard. “No, please, stop!”

“Stop!” not-Joyce’s voice repeated, mocking. “Stop! Stop!”

“Will!” called another voice, familiar.

Arms wrapped around him again, but they were back in the void and these arms were pulling him from not-Joyce’s grip, pushing her back. “Will, this is your mind!” his rescuer said in the same familiar voice. “It doesn’t belong here! You can fight back!”

“ _ Get him through! _ ” Dustin’s voice echoed, distant. “ _ Close the breach behind us, now now now! _ ”

Hanging limp in the arms of his rescuer, Will looked up into her face. “El…?” he said quietly.

Not-Joyce glared at them across the distance that separated them, her face a mask of fury. “El,” she snarled, repeating him one last time.

Then she vanished, and everything went dark.

- - -

“I have as many questions as you do,” Dustin said. “And I’m only just beginning to piece together the answers.” He was back in the briefing room. For the most part, the same people were in attendance as had been in the initial briefing, with the obvious exception that Will was gone. Instead, Doctor Ouvens had been called to attend, leaning against the wall by the door and frowning softly as he listened.

“From the evidence available, it seems reasonable to conclude that we were attacked by a hostile semi- or non-corporeal entity native to the In-Between,” Dustin continued. He nodded at Steve and Robin. “The three of us were lucky enough to avoid exposure. Will, on the other hand… well, from what I’ve been told, it seems to have invaded him on multiple levels. Doctor Ouvens tells me that his body was laced with some form of exotic matter that so far has defied our attempts to analyze it. And Lieutenant Hopper tells me that there was a strong psychic presence in his mind when she… intervened.”

El nodded confirmation as he spoke. Her face was pale and drawn, and Dustin could still see traces of dried blood ringing her nostrils. She’d cleaned herself up before he’d seen her, but he knew from Max that she’d been in the worst state anybody had ever seen her in, the effort of projecting herself through the breach and into Will’s mind clearly taking its toll. Dustin didn’t know how he could even begin to thank her for what she’d done.

Mike leaned back into his chair, his expression solemn. “Well, immediate concerns first. Doctor, what state is Commander Byers in?”

“The psychic influence of this… entity was apparently cut off when the breach was closed,” Doctor Ouvens replied. “So that’s not a concern. The physical traces were more… well, long story short, after some educated trial and error I found a way to manipulate the exotic matter using energy fields. I’ve managed to expunge Commander Byers of all the contaminants that I am capable of detecting.”

“So he’s in the clear?” Steve asked.

Doctor Ouvens fixed him with a look. “I have expunged Commander Byers of all the contaminants  _ that I am capable of detecting _ ,” he repeated.

Steve’s face fell; his arm looped around Robin’s shoulder and she leaned into him, looking stricken. Technically the gesture was a breach of decorum, but nobody in the room had the heart to reprimand them for it.

“That’s… something that we’ll have to deal with if and when it comes up again, unfortunately,” Mike said, breaking the silence. “As far as dealing with the entity goes…”

“Like I said, I have as many questions as you do,” Dustin said. “I’ll answer as many as I can in time, but I’m not working with a lot of data here. We know this thing’s not quite corporeal. We know that it’s capable of, effectively, possessing people. We know that it has… something like what we’d call intelligence. Beyond that, we know precious little about it or its capabilities.”

“We know that it’s hostile,” Max added, crossing her arms.

“‘Hostile’ might not be quite the right word,” Doctor Ouvens said. “It’s possible that this entity doesn’t quite view us as properly sentient, or significant.” He gave a smile that looked more like a grimace. “Like a kid pinning insects in in a box, say.”

“Whatever the right word is for its intentions, it’s been in psychic contact with Will,” Dustin said. “We should be prepared for the possibility that it knows some or all of what he knows--including how we traveled from our universe to the In-Between.”

“You’re saying that it might know how to get to our universe now?” Lucas asked.

“Like I said, we should prepare for the possibility.” Dustin sighed. “Or for the possibility that somebody might open another breach from our side. If I figured it out…”

“I’d prefer to make that scenario as unlikely as possible,” Mike said. “I’m hereby classifying the outcomes of this experiment until further notice. That means that everything said in this debriefing  _ does not leave this room _ unless you’re talking to somebody with clearance equal to or above my own. Is that explicitly understood?” Nods around the room. “I’m going to be taking this up with Starfleet Command. They’ll have at least as many questions as I do, so be prepared for that, Mr. Henderson.”

Dustin nodded grimly. “Trust me, Captain, I’m going to be working full-time on figuring this out for the foreseeable future.”

“Good.” Mike’s smile had no humor in it. “Everyone, dismissed.” 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus the plot thickens.
> 
> Well, now I have to go pack up my entire life so that I can move it across town. See you all next week!


	10. The Stray

_ “First officer’s log: Captain Wheeler has been called away to an urgent summit by Starfleet Command, pulling him away from the  _ Hawkins _ for a week all told, including transit time. Of course, it’s not uncommon for first officers to have to step up and take command while their captains attend to business, but this will be my first time flying solo since taking the position. I’m… interested to see what the experience is like.” _

The entrance signal to Lucas’s office chimed. “Come in,” he said.

The door slid open to admit Max, who walked up to his desk, datapad in hand. “Here are those status reports you asked me for,” she said, laying the pad down in front of him. “Sorry, I meant you to have them a little earlier, but… well, to be perfectly honest, I spaced out and walked to Mike’s office without thinking. I was about to ring his entry signal before I realized what I’d done.”

Lucas steepled his fingers and fixed her with a solemn look. “What I’m hearing here is that you have no faith in my capabilities as a leader.”

“Yep, that’s exactly what I’m saying,” Max said seriously, nodding.

They stared at each other for a moment, struggling with diminishing success to hold back the grins that were threatening to break out across their faces. Finally, the tension broke, and they both started to laugh.

“Seriously, thanks,” Lucas said, pulling the datapad toward him on the desk. “I’ll give them a look when I get the chance. Been to Mike’s office a few times too many, have you?”

“More times than I can count, long since,” Max replied, blowing out a sigh. “Somehow, the Starfleet recruitment materials never mentioned just how much damn paperwork needs to get done between all of the exciting bits.” She leaned forward, resting her hands on the edge of Lucas’s desk. “So? How does it feel, being the big shot in charge?”

Lucas raised an eyebrow, seeing a wicked gleam appear in her eye. “Like I’ve got even more paperwork to deal with than usual,” he said dryly.

“Oh, is that all?” Max leaned even further onto his desk, sinking until she was propped up on her elbows, her lips turned up in a catlike smile. “You’re not feeling the romantic call to adventure? The urge to explore strange new worlds, seek out new life and become… intimately acquainted with it?”

“You watch too many trashy holodramas, Max.”

“You really think so?” Max purred. “Are you sure? Because I might just be the kind of girl who’d go  _ wild _ for a dashing hero with their own starship…” She fluttered her eyelashes at him, flirting outrageously.

Lucas leaned forward, fixing her with the most unimpressed stare he could muster. “We’re on duty,  _ Ms. Mayfield _ .”

“Oh, so stolid!” Max gasped, straightening up and fanning herself with one hand. “Square that jaw harder, Commander Sinclair, you’re going to make me faint!”

In spite of his continued efforts to look unimpressed, Lucas couldn’t stop a snort of laughter from escaping his nostrils. “And here I’d gone and forgotten what it was like to date you.”

“That’s why I’m obliged to remind you,” said Max. “Now, I hope you’re not this straitlaced off-duty, are you?”

It was Lucas’s turn to let a sly smile spread over his face. “Why don’t you try me tonight and find out?” he said. He was rewarded with the sight of a faint blush appearing on Max’s cheeks as she giggled in response. As much as she might enjoy winding other people up, Lucas knew that she could be an easy mark herself… provided one knew the correct tack to take.

His combadge chimed, interrupting the moment. “ _ Bridge to Commander Sinclair, _ ” El’s voice said.

Lucas tapped his badge, giving Max a significant look. “Go ahead, Lieutenant.”

“ _ We’re picking up something on the sensors. I think you’re going to want to get up here. _ ”

“Understood. I’ll be there momentarily.”

“So is this just going to be a thing now, El interrupting us while we’re flirting?” Max asked.

Lucas quirked his eyebrow at her as he rose from his seat and crossed to the other side of his desk. “El is doing her job, just like we should be doing our jobs.”

Max blew a raspberry at him. “Bleh. Less than two days in charge and you’re already no fun anymore.”

“Is that so? Because I could  _ swear _ that somebody was just telling me that being in charge of your own starship is sure to get Maxine Mayfield all hot and bothered…”

“Oh fine, just go and use my own words against me like that. Ass.” Max elbowed him playfully in the side. “Shall we head up to the bridge then?”

- - -

The door to the bridge slid open, and Lucas and Max strode in, bearing themselves far more professionally than they had been in his office. “All right, Hopper, what’ve we got on the scope?” Lucas asked as he settled himself into the command chair. Behind him, Max took up her post at the tactical station, relieving the auxiliary officer.

“Sir.” El was poring over her console, deeply absorbed. “It’s a small, artificial craft of some kind, unmanned. My best guess is that it’s some sort of probe.”

“Your best guess? So you can’t say for certain?”

“No, sir. I’ve been going through the database trying to find a match for the design and tech, but I’m not coming up with anything.” El straightened up and looked over her shoulder at Lucas. “It would seem that it was constructed by a civilization unknown to the Federation.”

“Really?” Lucas’s skin tingled, his interest piqued. This was exactly the sort of scenario that everybody signed up for Starfleet hoping to encounter. “Helm, how far out are we?”

“Forty thousand klicks, give or take,” Kali answered. “I’ll need to bring us in a fair bit closer to bring us into deep scan range.”

“Do so,” Lucas said.

“It’s not armed, is it?” Max asked from her station as the  _ Hawkins _ ’ engines rumbled.

“Not with anything I can pick up on the sensors, no,” replied El. “Besides, it’s so small relative to the  _ Hawkins _ that the likelihood of it carrying anything that could punch through our shields, let alone pose a threat to the ship’s structural integrity, is minimal.”

“Famous last words,” Max commented lightly, but she didn’t press the issue.

“Can you tell how long it’s been traveling?” Lucas asked.

“Hard to say with much precision,” El said. “We’re a ways from any space known to be inhabited, but since this seems to originate from an undiscovered civilization anyway that doesn’t really tell us much. The vessel’s systems all seem to still be in good working order, but vacuum is pretty much an ideal environment for preservation, so that doesn’t really tell us much either. It could’ve been traveling for a few weeks, it could’ve been traveling for a couple centuries.”

“Glad we cleared that up,” Lucas said.

El cast a look at him over her shoulder that was both amused and annoyed. “Entering scan range now,” she said, turning back to her console. “Hopefully this should give us some of the answers we’re looking for… oh, excellent, its onboard computer system is still functioning. Of course, the computer code it’s running is completely alien to us too…”

“Is that going to be a problem?” Lucas asked.

“A minor inconvenience at worst. The  _ Hawkins’ _ systems are designed to be able to interface with unknown systems if necessary.” El worked her console. “Just give me a bit of time here…”

“What are you hoping to find here, Lucas?” Max asked.

“With luck?” Lucas replied, swiveling his chair around to face her and grinning. “Something that’ll make Mike flip his shit for missing out on when he gets back.”

“Hah,” Max huffed out a laugh. “That’s right. Teach him to ditch us for a bunch of boring stuffed shirts at Starfleet Command.”

“That’s the idea.”

“Ha! Got it,” El said from behind Lucas. “Accessing its systems now. Huh, that’s weird…”

Lucas and Max traded a look between them before Lucas swiveled his chair back around to face forward. “El,” Max said. “Every time you say ‘that’s weird’ without elaborating, it gives me this deep, primal sense of fear.”

“Sorry,” El said distractedly. “I just mean that this isn’t at all what I was expecting. I figured it’d have, say, some sort of database or a repository of sensor readings or something along those lines. But this is something else… it almost looks like command architecture, except I can’t imagine why a simple probe would need something so  _ complex _ \--whoa!” This last exclamation came in response to a sharp warning chirp from her console. At the same time, the lights on the bridge flickered slightly before returning to their normal levels.

“Hopper?” Lucas said, looking around warily. “What was  _ that _ ?”

“Hold on--” El scanned through data that flashed up on her console. “Um. It looks like the probe sent something back up the link I established, into the  _ Hawkins _ ’ systems.”

“If you scan into the probe, the probe scans also into you?” Max said.

El turned full around in her seat to fix Max with a bewildered look. “What?”

“Um. Nietzsche,” Max explained. “Old Earth philosopher. It was a joke, I was joking.”

El turned back to her console, muttering something to herself that sounded distinctly to Lucas like “ _ humans. _ ”

“Can you isolate what it sent into our systems?” Lucas asked her.

“Working on it,” El replied. “Yeah, I’ve zeroed in on it. I just need a moment to analyze--” She stopped short. “Okay.  _ That’s _ weird.”

“Not again,” Max muttered.

“It’s… well, it’s gone,” El said. “One moment I had it right there, and then the next moment it was like it had never been there in the first place.”

“So this… probe, or whatever it is, uploaded something into the  _ Hawkins _ ’ systems that promptly deleted itself?” Lucas asked.

“That… is what appears to have happened, anyway,” El said. “The probe itself has gone completely inert, too. I’m honestly at a loss here, Commander. With your permission, I think I’m going to want to do a full diagnostic of all the  _ Hawkins’ _ systems just to make sure that it didn’t do anything to us before disappearing.”

“That’s wise,” Lucas agreed. “How long will that take?”

“If I’m being  _ really _ thorough… probably about three or four hours.”

“Do it,” Lucas said, rising from his seat. “I’ll be in my office. Let me know the instant you find anything. I’d really appreciate getting some answers here.”

- - -

As it turned out, answers came not in the form of El’s diagnostic, but an incident report from Will.

“ _ Byers to Commander Sinclair. _ ”

Lucas looked up from his work and tapped his combadge. “Go ahead, Byers.”

“ _ There’s… I’m not really sure how to put this. The replicators on Deck 14 are spewing out cups. _ ”

Lucas blinked, taking a moment to make sure that, yes, Will had just said what he thought he’d said. “Cups?” he asked, in lieu of having any better questions.

“ _ Yes, cups. Cups of basically every shape and size that we have the patterns for. Some of them have beverages in them, and some don’t. I’ve got a team here scooping them back into reclamation as fast as we can but… well, it seems like we might want to get at the root of the problem here. _ ”

“Agreed. Stand by, Byers.” Lucas tapped his badge again to switch channels. “Sinclair to Lieutenant Hopper.”

“ _ Yes, sir? _ ”

“I need you to stop whatever you’re doing and have a look at the replicator control system for Deck 14, right now.”

“ _ Will do, sir, but I already checked the replicator systems and I didn’t see any… _ ” El’s voice trailed off. “ _ What? That was  _ ** _not_ ** _ there when I checked earlier! _ ”

“Is it the upload from the probe?”

“ _ It must be--the code’s the same, _ ” she said. “ _ Hold on, I’m going to see if I can--and it’s gone again. Commander, this is… _ ”

“Weird?” Lucas finished. “Yes, I agree. Keep working, Hopper, I’m going to get the senior staff on this.” He switched channels again. “Byers, Sinclair again. Are the replicators still malfunctioning?”

“ _ Um… actually, no, they stopped just a few moments before you called. How did you know? _ ”

“Let’s just say that the picture’s coming together,” Lucas said. “I’m going to go round up the rest of the senior staff. Meet me in the ready room in half an hour. In the meantime, if any more strange malfunctions pop up, I want you to notify Lieutenant Hopper immediately and have her check the associated computer systems.”

“ _ Will do, sir. Byers out. _ ”

- - -

“It’s  _ moving _ ,” El said, eyes alight.

The others stared at her from around the ready room table, visibly unsettled by her enthusiasm. Well, except for Dustin, who looked intrigued, but that was Dustin for you. “Moving?” Lucas asked. “You mean this program is shuffling itself around the  _ Hawkins’ _ systems?”

El nodded. “That’s why I was having so much trouble pinning it down. It wasn’t staying in one place long enough for me to run a full analysis.”

“And that’s why it’s been causing trouble across so many different systems,” Lucas said. “Will, how are we doing on that front?”

Will shifted in his chair. He was looking tired and haggard, with dark circles under his eyes, but he’d been looking that way ever since he got out of sickbay, after--well. He didn’t like people bringing that incident up. “I’ve been getting incident reports from all over the ship. Basically the same story every time; one of the computer-controlled systems malfunctions, goes haywire for a few minutes, and then starts working normally again--presumably, after this program moves on to the next system. Fortunately, no injuries so far. The worst we’ve had is two ensigns that got the crap scared after them after this thing got into the holosuite control systems.”

“I don’t get it,” Max says. “What’s the point? Who would design a program that just… bounces around our systems at random like this?”

“That’s the thing,” El said. “I don’t think it’s random. At least, not the way you’re thinking.”

“Sounds like you have a theory, Hopper,” Lucas said.

El nodded. “You remember when I said that the probe’s systems were entirely taken up by strangely, unnecessarily complicated command architecture?”

Lucas nodded.

“Well, from the glimpses I’ve managed to catch of this program’s code, it’s extremely similar. Similar enough that it might even be the same architecture, uploaded from the probe into our systems.”

“Okay. And?”

“Think about it.” El’s eyes were gleaming again. “What is command architecture, on a fundamental level? Information processing, decision making… most computer systems you’d encounter only have a very rudimentary version of that, but if you scale up the complexity to the extent that we’re seeing here…”

There was a long pause as everybody around the table absorbed the implication.

“Holy shit,” Dustin said at length. “Are you saying that this thing is  _ intelligent _ ?”

“I don’t think we’ll be discussing philosophy with it anytime soon,” El said, “but yes, based on my observations, I would classify it as a digitally-based sentient life-form.”

“We have a  _ rogue artificial intelligence _ loose on the ship?” Lucas asked, eyes widening in horror. “What does it want? Are we under attack?”

“I don’t think so,” Will said. The table’s attention turned to him. “Just going off of the assumption that El’s correct,” he continued, “if it wanted to kill us, that’d be a simple matter. It’s got near-unrestricted access to the ship’s systems, so it could just turn off the life support, or overload the warp cores. No, its… behavior, I suppose you’d call it, makes it seem more like its playing with the ship.”

“ _ Playing _ ?!” Lucas asked, eyebrows rising.

“I agree with Commander Byers,” El said. “The behavior I’m seeing… well, honestly, it reminds me the most of a dog. A poorly-trained one, that runs around the house getting into all of its owner’s things.”

Lucas stared incredulously at her. “A dog,” he repeated, as though it would sound less absurd coming out of his own mouth.

“Okay, but why?” Max spread her hands out in front of her, with an incredulity matching Lucas’s. “What the hell kind of civilization not only creates a… a dog AI, or whatever, but loads the damn thing into a probe and shoots it off into space so it can dump itself on whatever unsuspecting starship finds it?!”

“That’s an excellent question,” Lucas said, rubbing at his temples. “One that we can work on answering  _ after _ we figure out how to stop this thing from wreaking havoc on our ship.”

“That’s not an easy proposition,” El said with an apologetic half-smile. “I’m having a hard enough time pinning it down long enough to analyze it. I can only imagine the measures it’d take to actually rein it in.”

Lucas leaned forward, elbows on the table, face in his hands. “Of course,” he groaned. “Of course something like this would happen when Mike’s not around.”

“To be fair,” said Dustin, “things like this happen a lot even when Mike  _ is _ around.”

Everybody chuckled at that in spite of themselves. “Fair enough,” Lucas said, lifting his face out of his hands. “Okay, here’s our plan of action. Max, Will, you two are on damage control. Any new malfunctions pop up, you respond immediately and try to contain them the best you can. El, Dustin, you’re our think tank. Keep tracking this dog AI thing and try to figure out more about it with an eye to coming up with a method for containing it or getting rid of it.”

“And what are you planning to do, fearless leader?” Max asked.

“I am going to get a raktajino to keep my wits together, and stay on hand to make the critical judgement calls when you need them,” Lucas said. “Because that’s the life of a commander.”

- - -

“Okay,” El said from the operations console. “I think I have it.”

Lucas looked up from the raktajino cup he’d been idly toying with, its contents long since vanished into his stomach. “Walk me through it, Hopper. What exactly is this ‘it’ that you ‘have’?”

El spun around in her chair, apparently too excited to bother with her usual dirty look in response to his jibe. “This AI entity seems to be drawn to particular patterns of code activity--ones often seen in our active subsystems, which explains its behavior. Kind of like a cat chasing around a laser pointer.”

“I thought it was a dog,” Max said from the tactical station.

“The point is,” El continued forcefully, “I’ve created a subroutine that simulates the type of patterns it seems to be drawn to, without, you know, actually doing anything. I can use that subroutine as a lure to draw it into our communications array. Once it’s there, I can broadcast it back into the probe, removing it from the  _ Hawkins _ ’ systems entirely.”

“Great. Brilliant.” Lucas rubbed at his eyes. “Let’s go for it, then. The sooner we get this sorted out, the sooner we can all go off-shift and get some damn rest.”

“Yes, sir.” El turned back to her console. “Deploying the lure now… oh, and here it comes already.”

The lights on the bridge flickered slightly. “Why does that keep happening?” Max asked. “Is the light control system, like, adjacent to the communications system, somehow? Are there digital hallways in there? How does this whole thing work, anyway?”

“Try not to think about it too hard,” Lucas advised. “Hopper, status?”

“It took the bait. I’ve isolated it in the communications system. Sending it back to the probe… now.” Lucas heard her gasp slightly. “Oh--”

The remainder of her exclamation was cut off as the  _ Hawkins  _ began to rumble violently, shaking with enough force that Lucas had to grip the arms of his chair to avoid being pitched to the floor. The lights began to flicker again, wilder than before, leaving the bridge in intermittent darkness, and a deafening, discordant series of chimes and beeps erupted from every console. “ _ Status! _ ” Lucas roared, yelling to be heard above the din.

Kali reeled off a truly impressive string of curses in Hindi. “Everything’s gone haywire!” she shouted back. “Stabilizers, thrust control… I don’t have control of anything!”

“ _ Byers to bridge, _ ” Will’s voice spoke from Lucas’s comm. “ _ What the  _ ** _hell_ ** _ ?! _ ”

“Working on it, Will!” Lucas snapped back. “Hopper!”

“I think we upset it!” El yelled.

“That’s pretty damn obvious!” Lucas yelled. “I’m saying to  _ fix it! _ ”

“Shit-shit-shit-shit-shit-shit--” El repeated to herself, bending over her console. A tiny corner of Lucas’s brain marveled at the novelty of hearing her swear, but most of his attention was occupied with bracing himself against the onslaught of the ship shaking itself apart.

Then, just as suddenly as they had started, the rumbling, flickering, and chiming all cut out at once.

“Phew,” El commented, slumping back in her seat.

“Phew,” agreed Lucas. “What did you  _ do _ , Hopper?”

“I reprogrammed the lure to travel through the  _ Hawkins _ ’ systems at random,” El explained. “As I hoped, the AI entity forgot about being upset in favor of following its new favorite toy around.”

“Huh,” Lucas said. “So what you’re saying is that you--”

El threw her hands up in the air. “ _ Yes _ , I threw a ball for the dog to go chase.  _ Why _ are all of you getting so stuck on that analogy?”

“It’s easier to wrap my head around,” Max answered. “And it makes me feel better about the situation, too. An alien AI loose in the ship’s systems? Terrifying. An overexcited puppy loose in the ship’s systems? Problematic, but adorable.”

“Humans,” El grumbled.

“ _ Anyway _ ,” Lucas cut in. “Square one. The past couple hours of work have basically accomplished nothing.”

“Not nothing,” El said. “We’ve learned that the AI entity will react violently to attempts to forcefully remove it from our systems.”

“Okay, yeah. Great.”

“We’ve learned to lure it into particular spots in our systems, right?” Max added. “That’s not nothing either. Maybe we can pin it down in one place long enough to delete it.”

El whirled in her chair. “ _ Max! _ I mean--with all due respect, Commander, it’s for all intents and purposes a living being. What you’re proposing is tantamount to murdering it. No, it  _ would _ be murdering it.”

“You were here just now when it nearly made the ship tear itself apart, right, Lieutenant?” Max shot back.

“ _ Enough! _ ” Lucas interrupted. “We’ve got a thorny enough problem on our hands without the senior staff devolving into bickering. Both of you, back off.” He reached up and drew one hand over his face, slowly, as though trying to wipe away all his frustration. “Can’t we… I don’t know, can’t we build a dog kennel for it or something?”

El looked at him incredulously “Commander, that’s--” Her expression softened into thoughtfulness. “That’s… not a bad idea, actually.”

Lucas raised an eyebrow at her. “I was joking.”

“I know, but I’m not.” El turned back and started working at her console. “It’ll be a bit ad hoc, and I’ll need to steal a little bit of space for it… Commander Byers will probably get annoyed at me, but this is probably going to be our best option. Hang on, give me a bit of time here…”

Lucas turned his chair around. “Max?”

“Yes?”

“If there ever comes a time when I say that El has no more surprises left in her… please just smack me upside the head. Like,  _ hard _ .”

Max tossed off a salute. “You can count on me, sir.”

“And done,” El announced triumphantly. “Now all that’s left is to get it in there, which is as simple as getting it to follow the lure…” Her console chirped. “Aw, there it is! I’ve got it contained in its own little firewalled section of the computer. It’s happy enough playing with the lure for now, but I’ll have to come up with other sources of enrichment so it doesn’t get bored… hmm, maybe I can…” She trailed off as she looked up from her console and noticed that everybody else on the bridge was staring at her. Her face flushed slightly. “What?”

“Lieutenant,” Lucas said, “were you not allowed to have a pet as a child?”

El’s flush deepened and her gaze dropped down to the floor. “...the Tymbrimi don’t really… do pets, no.”

“I see.” Lucas leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, the corners of his mouth tugging up slightly. “Well, if you promise to be responsible--take good care of it, play with it every day, keep it fed and exercised, however the hell that works--then you can keep it.”

El glared up at him. “Permission to speak freely, sir?”

“Granted.”

“Shut the hell up, Lucas.”

The bridge broke into laughter at that. “All right, all right,” Lucas said, easing himself out of the command chair. “Unless I’m figuring it wrong, I think we’re all overdue for the end of our shifts. Let’s get the auxiliary bridge crew up here so we can take a well-earned break, yeah?”

- - -

“Welcome back to the ship, Mike,” Lucas said.

“Good to be back, Lucas,” Mike said as he stepped out of the shuttle bay. “I can’t believe it was only a week--it seemed so much longer than that.”

“...I take it the summit was less than interesting?” Lucas said as they began to walk together through the corridors.

“I don’t know about interesting.  _ Frustrating, _ certainly,” Mike said. “Briefing them on our encounter with the In-Between went well enough, I suppose--it was certainly a new experience having a room full of top brass hanging on my every word like that. But then they started talking. And talking. And  _ talking _ …”

“The famous Federation art of the longform debate?” Lucas said.

“In all its glory,” sighed Mike. “Not a one of them knew anything more than what I told them in my briefing, and yet half of them were convinced that they knew exactly how to handle the situation. Thus, speeches, arguments, shouting matches. I didn’t think it was possible for me to miss the  _ Hawkins _ more than I already did, but…” He shook his head. “Anyway. I’d rather not dwell on that ordeal. Did anything happen while I was away?”

Lucas sucked in a breath. “Why don’t we… brief you on all that after you’ve gotten settled back in?”

“Oh, no.” Mike stopped in his tracks. “Was it that bad?”

“No, no, just a couple of developments you should be made aware of,” Lucas said quickly. “Nobody got killed, nobody was hurt…”

“The fact that you felt the need to specify that is even more worrying.”

“Mike.” Lucas laid a hand on his shoulder. “It’s all fine, really. I promise.” He broke into a grin. “Actually, thinking about it… why don’t we go stop by El’s cabin? You can meet her new pet.”

“Pet?” Mike’s eyebrows shot up.

Lucas nodded affirmative. “She named it Athaclena.”

“...right,” said Mike as they resumed walking. “I  _ really _ need to hear this one.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About time we had a breather episode, isn't it? See you all next week--I'm really excited about what's coming up :D


	11. The Life You Know, pt 1

_ “Captain’s log: The _ Hawkins _ has been tapped to serve as a transport for a Federation ambassador who is returning from a stint in the Azad Empire. We’re rendezvousing with Ambassador Mawhrin and her entourage at Starbase 83, and from there will conduct them to the Federation Council on Earth.” _

“Ambassador Mawhrin,” Mike said. “Welcome to the _ Hawkins _.”

“Thank you, Captain Wheeler,” Mawhrin replied. “You are a most gracious host.” She was a small, round woman, and her skin hung off her cheeks in drooping waves--a physical feature that was typical for Zakdorn, making it hard for Mike to judge her age. Nonetheless, her eyes glinted with a light that made Mike pity anybody who underestimated her.

“My first officer, Commander Lucas Sinclair,” Mike said, indicating Lucas at his side, who nodded in greeting. “He’ll be taking care of you whenever I’m not.”

“Well, I’ll just have to hope that I’m in good hands, then,” said Mawhrin with just enough humor that the jibe didn’t sting. “I’m traveling light as far as entourage goes--just this reporter girl here, and her tag-along. They’re doing a profile of me and my efforts for the Federation News Service.”

“Yes, actually, speaking of,” Lucas said before Mike could say anything. “Why don’t I go ahead and show you to your quarters, ambassador? The captain has a bit of… personal business to attend to here. He can catch up with us at dinner.”

Mike nodded his thanks to Lucas. Mawhrin eyed him curiously but didn’t argue as Lucas escorted her away down the hallway. “Well,” he said, turning back to the ‘reporter girl’ and her ‘tag-along’. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Way too long if you ask me,” Nancy Wheeler said with a brilliant smile. She reached over and mussed Mike’s hair affectionately. “Look at my baby brother, all grown up and commanding his own starship!”

“Ack--Nancy!” Mike protested, pushing her hand away.

“What, you think I get the chance to call a starship captain ‘baby brother’ every day?” she asked, smile now decidedly mischievous. “You’d better believe I’m going to milk this for all it’s worth.”

“I can’t wait,” Mike grumbled as he attempted to regain his composure. “Jonathan, how are you doing? Will would’ve met you here with me, but…”

Jonathan Byers’ smile was more reserved than Nancy’s, but no less genuine. “Starship engineer, I get it. I’m surprised that he even has time to sleep. How has he been doing?”

“He’s been--” Mike hesitated. “He was… ill, badly so, a little while ago. But he’s recovered well.”

A concerned expression crossed Jonathan’s face, but he didn’t ask any more questions as the three of them began to walk together, Mike leading them in the direction of the guest quarters.

“So, Mike,” Nancy said as they walked. “You’ve been making quite a splash in Starfleet over the last few months. Not only being one of the youngest officers to ever make captain, but that situation with the Romulans at the border, and there are some rumblings about a major scientific discovery--”

“Is this an interview?” Mike asked. “This is sounding like an interview.”

“Oh--well, I _ do _ want to catch up with my little brother, of course,” Nancy said innocently. “But, I mean, if it just so happens that he’s been doing interesting and newsworthy things, maybe I could cobble together a little profile on the side…”

Mike groaned. “You’re relentless.”

“You’ve known me your entire life, and you’re only now figuring this out?” Nancy squeezed his arm. “Hey. I’m not going to publish anything without your consent, I promise. I just want the rest of the Federation to be as proud of you as I am.”

Mike turned away to hide his blush. “Here, this turbolift will take you up to the guest quarters,” he said, gesturing. “I’ve got a few things to take care of, but we can catch up at dinner tonight. I’ve invited the entire senior staff to attend, so Will will be there too,” he added, looking at Jonathan.

“Great,” Jonathan said with another reserved smile. “Good to see you, Mike.”

“Yes, it’s good to see you,” agreed Nancy. She stretched up slightly on her toes to plant a kiss on Mike’s cheek. Then she and Jonathan stepped into the turbolift, disappearing behind the closing door.

\- - -

“Your sister?” El asked, eyebrows arching in surprise.

“That’s me,” Nancy said. “Nancy Wheeler of the Federation News Service. Mike acts like he’s the one out of our family who ran off to the stars, but I was chasing stories across the quadrant while he was still faffing about in the Academy back on Earth.”

“She’s also incredibly competitive and loves to tease me,” Mike added dryly, “though I’m sure that your keen powers of observation already picked that up.”

Nancy slapped him playfully on the arm. “Anyway, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant Hopper,” she said to El.

“Oh, please, just call me El,” El said, waving an airy hand in front of her. “Everybody else here does.” 

The _ Hawkins _ was on the smaller and more utilitarian end of Starfleet spaceships--certainly with nothing even close to the luxurious accomodations one might find on a _ Galaxy _-class ship--and so they’d had to mock up an impromptu banquet table in the ready room. Mike and all his senior officers were in attendance, as were Ambassador Mawhrin, Nancy, and Jonathan. Mike had sat in his usual seat at the head of the table, out of sheer force of habit; Nancy sat in the righthand spot that normally belonged to Lucas, with El sitting across from her. Jonathan sat on Nancy’s other side, deep in conversation with Will. Lucas, Max, and Dustin were all clustered around Mawhrin at the other end of the table, talking animatedly.

“So, El,” Nancy said, tucking her hands beneath her chin and looking across the table with an aggressively intrigued expression that Mike knew a little too well. “I’ve known all of my brother’s other friends since their Academy days, but I know almost nothing about you. What’s your story? What brought you into Starfleet?”

“Sorry, I should’ve warned you,” Mike said with a sidelong glance at El. “Given half a chance, Nancy _ will _ start digging into your entire life story.”

“I don’t mind,” El replied with a small smile. She set her fork neatly down on her plate and folded her hands in front of her, returning Nancy’s gaze head-on. “I suppose you might say that I joined Starfleet because of my father, though not in the way that that sounds.”

“Ah, so that _ is _‘Hopper’ as in Admiral James Hopper, then,” Nancy said, nodding. Mike rolled his eyes. His sister didn’t miss a trick.

El acknowledged the point with a small nod. “He didn’t push me into Starfleet, or anything like that,” she continued. “It was just, I was adrift and looking for something to do with myself after leaving my mother’s people. My father did his best to help me with that and, well, Starfleet was what he knew.”

“Leaving your mother’s people?” Nancy asked, lifting an eyebrow.

“I’m half-Tymbrimi,” El explained.

“Oh.” Nancy looked mildly surprised at that. “I, ah… didn’t think they got out much, shall we say.”

That got a soft giggle out of El. “That’s one way of putting it,” she said. “By and large, the Tymbrimi find the galaxy… too serious, too fast and intense for their taste. They have difficulty relating to other species. My father was part of a rare diplomatic mission to their world.”

Nancy raised both eyebrows. “And he, ah…”

“Established close relations? That would appear to be the case, given that, well, I’m sitting here.” El was actually turning slightly red, and Mike found himself having to bite back a grin. Embarrassment looked oddly adorable on her.

“But it sounds like you were raised by your mother, then?” Nancy asked.

“Yes.” All traces of amusement fell off of El’s face, and her gaze grew distant. “She did the best she could for me, and I did my best to live by the mores of their society, but… well, I suppose I never really fit in. I was too aggressive, too driven, too _ human _. It wasn’t long after reaching adulthood that I decided I might be better off trying to find a place among my father’s people.”

Mike’s heart twinged painfully in sympathy. Nancy’s expression, too, had melted into soft sisterly concern, and she slid her hand across the table to rest lightly on top of El’s. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” El looked up and smiled at her. “It was hard to leave my mother behind, yes, but my father has been wonderfully supportive of me, and my life in the Federation has been, on the whole, a happy one.” She shifted her gaze over to Mike, still smiling. “Besides, if I hadn’t left, I would never have come to serve on board the _ Hawkins _, and I wouldn’t trade that for the galaxy.”

Mike found himself smiling back at her, somewhat in spite of himself. It rankled him a little bit that Nancy had managed to pull all of this out of El on their first meeting, when he hadn’t heard any of it despite knowing her for months. But then, he had never asked her about it, had he? Surely, El would have told him everything if he had just asked… if he’d displayed even the slightest bit of interest in her past.

Nancy was looking back and forth between him and El, her expression scrunching up slightly in that way it always did when she was puzzling something out. Before he could say anything, though, their attention was drawn to the other end of the table by an outburst from Max.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!”

Mike, El, and Nancy all turned to look in unison. “Is something the matter down there, Max?” Mike asked.

“Sorry, Mike.” To her credit, Max looked appropriately chagrined. “It’s just that the ambassador was telling us that she’s going to push for having the Federation Council lift its sanctions on the Azad Empire.”

“Oh boy,” Nancy said, grinning with a disturbing amount of glee. “I was wondering when this would come up.” Jonathan chuckled from beside her, though there was a certain weary quality to it.

Max turned back to face Mawhrin. “The Empire’s heavy-handed treatment of its citizens is infamous. You can’t be saying that we should just let that slide?”

“Indeed I am not,” Mawhrin said. Her fingers were steepled in front of her face, her bearing unperturbed by the sudden heated turn that the conversation had taken. “But you have to understand, commander, I have spent well over a year, now, becoming familiar with the Azadans, with the way that their government and their culture function. Simply put, the sanctions are not working.”

“Nobody expects them to change overnight, obviously,” Lucas put in. “But we have to do _ something _.”

“‘Do something’,” Mawhrin repeated, her tone falling just short of derisive. “This is the problem with humans--you’re so impulsive, always rushing to act for the sake of acting. We must do something, yes, but more importantly, we must consider what our aims are, and what actions will actually accomplish those aims.”

Mike leaned forward slightly, resting his hand thoughtfully on his chin. “Am I to understand that you’re proposing an alternative course of action, ambassador?”

“Indeed.” Mawhrin’s gaze shifted to meet his. “You have to understand, the Azadans--more particularly, the Azadans in charge of the Empire--are deeply headstrong and proud. In fact, their courtly culture revolves almost entirely around matters of pride and the according courtesies; it’s deeply fascinating. The point is, levying sanctions makes them feel like a child getting slapped on the wrist, an injury to their pride that makes them stiffen their backs and entrench themselves ever more firmly in their ways. Now, if we were to lift the sanctions and deepen our diplomatic relationship with them--now we’re treating them as a peer. And it is ever so important to impress one’s peers. We could make it quite clear to them what would impress us.” She spread her hands philosophically. “We could encourage them to effect real, substantial social change.”

“Maybe,” Will said. “Or maybe we just end up legitimizing the way they treat their citizens.”

“I don’t know,” Dustin mused. “I think I can see the ambassador’s point, counter-intuitive as it may seem. The universe doesn’t always move in straight lines, after all.”

“To hell with straight lines,” Max snorted. “It’s a matter of principle, pure and simple.”

Mike glanced over at Nancy. “It sounds like you’ve had this conversation with the ambassador already,” he said. “Surely you’ve had plenty of time to mull over your opinion on the matter?”

Nancy held up her hands. “I’m a reporter, Mike. I’m supposed to remain objective.”

“Remain as objective as you like when you’re writing your piece for the FNN,” Mike said. “I’m curious about your opinion as a Federation citizen.”

“Well…” Nancy let out a long sigh, looking around the table at all the people who were looking at her. “The ambassador probably knows the Azadans better than anybody else in the Federation at this point, and I can see the logic in her position. But I think Will’s point about the risk of legitimizing them is well-founded. At the very least, it’s likely to upset a lot of people. Logic or no logic, the optics _ really _ aren’t good.”

“Optics,” snorted Mawhrin, shaking her head. “I’m well aware of the public’s obsession with _ image _ . But if we want to come out ahead, really accomplish something _ meaningful _, then we need to be mindful of the long game.” She sighed, looking at the rest of them with an expression that put Mike in mind of a disappointed teacher. “I am hopeful that the Federation Council, at least, will see things from my point of view.”

\- - -

“I hope that the conversation at dinner didn’t upset you, ambassador,” Mike said. They were standing before the door to Mawhrin’s quarters, Mike having escorted her there after the dinner party. “My senior staff are all intelligent, passionate people, which are traits that I value in them, but it does tend to make them a little bit opinionated.”

Mawhrin laughed. “Captain, I of all people can hardly fault anybody for being opinionated,” she replied. “No, I recognize that my stance is bound to be controversial. I stand by it because I believe it to be the right thing to do, just as others will stand against it because they believe _ that _ to be the right thing to do. And that’s fine--everybody being free to pursue their own truth is what makes the Federation what it is, is it not?”

“I’m inclined to agree, yes,” Mike said with a smile. “Well goodnight, ambassador. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you.”

He frowned down the hallway as the doors closed behind Mawhrin. A Vulcan woman with dark, close-cropped hair was walking down the hall toward him. She was wearing a Starfleet uniform with an ensign’s rank pips, but although her face was fleetingly familiar, he couldn’t put a name to it. “Can I help you?” he asked as she approached.

“Oh,” she said, blinking. “I was just coming to see if there was anything that the ambassador needed.”

“I see.” Mike smiled at her. “Thank you, ensign, but I’ve got it covered.”

“Of course, sir.” The ensign turned to leave.

“Hold on a moment,” Mike said, halting her mid-turn. “Walk with me, ensign.” She obliged, falling in next to him as he strode down the hallway. “You’re a recent addition to the crew,” he said, not phrasing it as a question. “I’m sorry, but I haven’t had the chance to commit your name to memory yet.”

“Te’ra, sir,” she replied. “There is no need to apologize. I have only been on the _ Hawkins _ a short time, and you have been occupied preparing to receive the ambassador.”

“True,” admitted Mike. “Even so, I pride myself on keeping track of my crew. I promise that I will remember your name the next time we meet, Te’ra.” He stopped and held up one hand, parting two fingers to either side in the traditional Vulcan salute. “Live long and prosper.”

Te’ra looked at him in muted astonishment.

“I served under a Vulcan captain when I was a first officer,” Mike explained with a grin. “She educated me in a few of the finer points of propriety.”

“I see. Then you must forgive _ my _ lack of propriety, captain.” Te’ra returned his salute. “Live long and prosper.”

“I certainly hope to, ensign. Dismissed.”

\- - -

“Alright, what do we think?” Robin said in a low voice.

“What do we think?” Steve gazed critically across the _ Hawkins _ canteen at the two strangers who had walked in and taken a table on the other side of the room. “We think it’s worth a shot. I mean, look at her--she’s _ gorgeous _, for starters, and there’s something about her besides, just a kind of, I don’t know…”

“_ Je ne sais quoi _?” Robin supplied.

“I don’t know what that means.”

Robin rolled her eyes. “Forget it, dingus. What about the guy?”

Steve frowned back at her, puzzled. “You don’t go for guys.”

“Obviously, lunkhead. That’s why I’m asking _ you _ for _ your _ take.”

“Oh, right. Well… he’s all right. Seems kinda aloof, or withdrawn, or something. Kinda works for him, though, in a tortured-poet kinda way. Yeah, I think I could see it.” Steve nodded his tentative approval. “So what’s our approach?”

“They’re visitors, we offer ourselves as tour guides. See how they react to the offer, and where things might go from there.”

“Got it. All right, let’s go.” Rising together, the duo crossed the canteen over to where the couple was sitting, stopping a short distance from their table and waiting for them to notice their presence. “Hello there,” Steve said when they looked up, putting on his best charming smile. “I hope we’re not intruding on anything here. I’m Ensign Steve Harrington, and this here is Ensign Robin Buckley.”

“Hi,” Robin said, adding a charming smile of her own.

“Hello yourself,” the woman said--and yes, she was smiling back at them. A good sign. “I’m Nancy, this is Jonathan. Is there something that we can do for you?”

“Actually, we were wondering if there was something _ we _ could do for _ you _,” Steve said, leaning forward and resting his hands on the edge of the table. “We couldn’t help but notice that you’re visitors to our fair ship here and, you know, having served on it for quite some time now, we know all the ins and outs, and--”

“What the dingus is trying to say,” Robin interrupted, “is that we’d like to offer our services to you as… guides, if you will. We know that these big Federation starships can be a little bit overwhelming if you’re not used to them.”

Jonathan looked over at Nancy, chuckling slightly. “Are these guys for real?”

Nancy, however, was staring directly back at Robin, resting her chin in her hand with a cocky grin spread across her face. “I’m actually _ quite _ used to starships, as it happens,” she said, lifting her eyebrows. “I’ve been on quite a few of them in my capacity as a reporter.”

“A reporter? Oh, that’s perfect!” Robin said just a little too loudly, making Nancy and Jonathan both jump. “Er, sorry. But don’t you see? This is your chance to get an ensign’s-level view of Starfleet--life on the lower decks, if you will.”

“Yeah, totally!” Steve agreed. “No, I’m sure that the senior staff seems impressive and all that, but the crew level? That’s where all the really _ interesting _ stuff on the starship happens.”

Nancy laughed and turned to Jonathan. “Well, what do you think? It seems like it could be… well, interesting.”

“Oh, it’ll definitely be _ interesting _,” Jonathan snorted. “But what the hell. I’m game.”

“It’s decided, then.” Nancy turned back to Steve and Robin. “Why don’t you two get yourselves some drinks, and then you can sit with us and tell us all about your _ fascinating _ lives as ensigns aboard the _ Hawkins _.”

Steve and Robin flashed excited grins at each other as they scurried off to the replicator.

\- - -

Will was walking down the hallway when his combadge chirped. “_ Mike to Will _.”

Smiling ruefully, he reached up and tapped it. “Will here. Sorry, Mike, I know I’m late for our brunch thing. Recalibrating the phase aligners took longer than I was expecting. I’ll be up in a few minutes, why don’t the three of you start without me?”

“_ Actually, Nancy and Jonathan haven’t shown up yet either, _ ” Mike replied. “ _ I was calling to check whether they were with you, but… _”

“No, they aren’t.” Will frowned. “I’m assuming you’ve already checked their quarters?”

“_ Of course. _”

“Hold on a sec.” He doubted that they could’ve gotten into much of the way of trouble--they were limited to the confines of the ship, after all--but just in case… “Computer, please locate guests Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers.”

“_ Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers are currently on Deck 11, Section 7, _” the computer replied in its even electronic voice.

“_ The crew quarters? _” Mike asked, giving voice to the puzzled thought that had run through Will’s head as well.

“I’m not that far away from them,” Will said. “I’ll go find them and bring them up. Will out.”

One short walk and turbolift ride brought him to the deck and section in question, a hallway lined with doors leading to the living quarters for some of the _ Hawkins’ _ lower-ranking crew. Will slowed his stride, looking around to see if he could see any sign of which one Nancy and Jonathan were in. Obligingly, a door several feet down the hall slid open at that exact moment.

“...a thoroughly enjoyable night,” Nancy was saying as she exited. “Maybe we can all look each other up the next time we happen to--” She stopped short, suddenly spotting Will. “--oh!”

“Nance?” Jonathan emerged after her. “What’s--?” He, too, stopped suddenly upon seeing Will, eyes going wide.

Behind them, two figures in Starfleet uniform walked out--Ensigns Harrington and Buckley. Somehow, despite his general astonishment, Will wasn’t surprised by this particular detail. The two of them stumbled as they just barely avoided plowing into the stock-still Nancy and Jonathan. “Commander Byers?!” they said in unison.

“So it would seem,” Will replied. His eyes roved over the four of them, taking in details that began to fit together into a picture. Clothes slightly rumpled, distinct blushes accompanying the looks of shock on their faces… well. This was certainly an interesting development.

“What, um,” Steve said, finding his voice, “what are you doing down here, Commander?”

“I came down here to collect my brother,” Will answered, raising an eyebrow. “He’s late to brunch.”

Jonathan looked down at the deck, muttering an apology. Steve, on the other hand, gaped openly. “Wait, he’s your--?”

“I’m assuming that last names didn’t, ah, come up last night?” Will asked. “Yes, this is Jonathan _ Byers _, my older brother.”

“Wait, but if that’s your brother--” Robin’s eyes shot over to Nancy.

Will grinned. “Ah, you remembered. Yes, while we’re doing introductions, I should also introduce you to Nancy _ Wheeler _.”

Robin turned several shades redder than she already was, looking about ready to fall over.

“Wh--” Steve’s mouth worked as he tried to form his jumbled thoughts into words. “Wheeler as in _ Captain _\--?”

“Captain Wheeler, yes,” Nancy answered. “Mike is my little brother.” She alone out of the four of them had recovered her composure, and was staring down Will with a stern expression. “And what I choose to do in my personal time--who I choose to do it _ with _\--is none of my little brother’s business, captain or no captain.”

Will held his hands up in a conciliatory gesture. “I have no intention of tattling,” he said. “I’m just here to pick you two up, that’s all.”

“Good. As long as that’s explicitly understood.” Nancy turned back to Steve and Robin, giving each of them a light kiss on the cheek in turn. “I am serious about looking each other up,” she said. “Last night was a lot of fun… on a number of levels.” She spun on her heel to face back towards Will. “Let’s go, Jonathan. Lead on, _ Commander Byers _.”

“You’re not going to let me forget this, are you?” Jonathan murmured as he and Nancy fell into step beside Will.

“Nope,” Will replied brightly. “As your little brother, it’s not my business to judge you, but it _ is _ my prerogative to give you shit about it until the end of time.”

\- - -

Mike rang the chime on the door to Mawhrin’s quarters. “Ambassador?” he called. “Ambassador, we’re just about to eat. Is there anything that you would like me to bring you while I’m replicating the food?”

No response. Mike frowned, and rang the chime again. “Ambassador?” Still no response.

An uneasy feeling settled into Mike’s body. He took a deep breath, trying to push it aside. There were any number of reasons Mawhrin wouldn’t be in her quarters. She might have headed to the canteen, or the holodeck, or she might simply be exploring the ship. Still, Mike was responsible for her while she was on the _ Hawkins _, so it would be best to be sure… “Computer,” he said, “please locate guest Ambassador Mawhrin.”

“_ Ambassador Mawhrin is in her quarters on Deck 8. _”

The uneasy feeling redoubled in strength. “Override code Wheeler-duffer-8-11,” he said. “Give me access to Ambassador Mawhrin’s quarters.”

“_ Access granted. _”

The doors slid open. The room beyond was dark, only dimly illuminated by the light from the hallway. Mike could just barely make out the shape of Mawhrin, slumped in a chair in the middle of the quarters. “Ambassador?” he asked, stepping cautiously into the room. Then, “Computer, lights.”

The overhead lights burst into full illumination, and Mike’s breath caught in his throat. Mawhrin’s eyes were wide and glassy, staring blankly ahead at nothing. His unease deepened into dread as he walked over to her, seemingly in slow motion, his fingers shaking slightly as he placed them at her wrist. The lack of pulse was merely a formality; her flesh had already turned cold. She’d been dead for hours.

Mike felt like his hand was moving of its own accord as it found its way to his combadge. “Wheeler to Doctor Ouvens,” he said in a voice that seemed too calm to be his own. “I need you to drop whatever you’re doing and get up here right away.”

\- - -

“Cardiac arrest?” Lucas asked.

“That’s the preliminary finding.” Mike sat once again at the head of the ready room table; his senior staff was assembled for an emergency meeting, sitting in their usual positions. They were all showing their own variations of shock and disbelief. The out-of-body feeling from earlier had mostly faded away, but Mike was still having trouble convincing himself that the situation he was facing was real. “I’ve ordered Doctor Ouvens to conduct a complete autopsy to see if there’s anything we’re missing, so we should have more information before too long here.”

Glances were traded around the table. “Do we know if she had any predisposition to cardiac trouble?” Dustin asked. “Heart disease, or whatever the equivalent is for Zakdorn?”

Mike shook his head. “There was nothing listed in the file I have on her, but they were hardly going to include a detailed medical history in that. I’ve put out inquiries to see if we can get any more information, but…” He spread his hands helplessly.

Max turned uncomfortably in her seat. “Okay, I’m pretty sure everybody’s thinking it, I’m just going to go ahead and say it,” she said. “This is _ weird _ . A Federation ambassador just suddenly dropping dead for no reason en route to a major summit? Something about this feels off, _ way _ off.”

“I mean, it’s not _ impossible _…” Dustin started to say, but the sentence died on his tongue. Nobody else seemed inclined to argue the point, either.

Mike let out a weary sigh. “Feelings aren’t going to be enough, not for something as important as this. We’re not going to be able to accomplish anything until we get more information, one way or the other. You all have your duties to attend to; I’ll keep you informed of developments as they arise. Dismissed.”

Slowly, the others rose from their seats and exited the ready room--all except El, who walked over to Mike instead. “Captain?” she said.

Mike looked up at her, painfully aware of how tired and downtrodden he must have looked at the moment. “Yes, Ms. Hopper?”

“I--” She paused, seeming to weigh her words. “This isn’t your fault.”

He could deny thinking it, say that of course he knew that it wasn’t, but… “It happened on my watch,” he said flatly, dropping his gaze down to the tabletop.

“Mike…” Tentatively, she reached out a hand, laying it softly on his shoulder. “Blaming yourself won’t solve anything. And I don’t want--” She stopped again, apparently reconsidering the end of that sentence. “You’re always reminding me to be more gentle with myself,” she said instead. “It just… seems like right now, you’re the one who needs that reminder.”

In spite of everything, Mike smiled. “Thanks, El.”

She nodded, and crossed back to the ready room’s door. Mike stared at the tabletop, idly listening as the door slid open. When it failed to shut again after the familiar interval, he looked back up. Doctor Ouvens was standing at the end of the table, having apparently entered the room at the same time that El exited. “Doctor,” Mike said. “Have you--”

Doctor Ouvens held up a finger for silence, fishing in his coat pocket for something. Mike frowned. Something about the doctor’s bearing was… off, slightly more furtive than he was used to seeing. Finally, Doctor Ouvens pulled out a small device and placed it on the table, where it began to blink with a red light. “There,” he said. “Now we can talk.”

“Doctor, what is this?” Mike asked, looking at the strange device.

“Oh, that? Short-range pickup jammer. It’ll scramble any listening devices that might be in this room. Nobody listening in here but you and me.” Doctor Ovens smiled a smile that failed to reach his eyes, and he held up a hand to forestall the immediate question from MIke. “Now hold on a moment, captain. Everything will become clear very shortly.”

Mike sat back in his chair, bewildered. With a sudden flash of insight, he realized what was bothering him about Doctor Ouvens.

In all the time he’d known the old Tellarite, he’d never seen him look this _ afraid _ before.

“The state of Ambassador Mawhrin’s corpse aroused certain… suspicions in me, that I followed up on in my autopsy,” Doctor Ouvens said. “Unfortunately, looking at the results, those suspicions seem to have been well-founded.” He paused, licked his lips nervously.

“Well?” Mike said.

Doctor Ouvens looked back at him, expression somber. “Have you ever heard,” he said, “of an organization that calls itself Section 31?”

TO BE CONTINUED

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, have I been looking forward to this particular reveal for a while. I'm hoping that enough of you have watched DS9 for the final line to have its intended effect.


	12. The Life You Know, pt 2

“Section 31?” Mike asked.

“It’s hardly surprising that you’re not familiar,” Doctor Ouvens said. “They’re a… well, ‘clandestine’ seems like too weak of a word for them. I suppose you might call them the Federation’s best-kept secret.” He smiled, again without it reaching his eyes. “The secret that it keeps even from itself.”

Mike stared at him, mind reeling. He could barely make sense of what Doctor Ouvens was saying, and the few implications he was able to grasp were so horrifyingly absurd that he couldn’t bring himself to accept that the doctor could possibly mean them.

“The name ‘Section 31’ comes from the Starfleet charter,” Doctor Ouvens said. “Article 14, Section 31: allowances are to be made for the bending--or breaking--of Starfleet regulations during times of extreme threat. You’re familiar with that much, I’m sure.”

“Of course,” Mike said. “Extraordinary times, extraordinary measures. Everybody learns that in the Academy.”

Doctor Ouvens smiled again, and this time it had a vicious edge to it that made the hair on the back of Mike’s neck prickle. “Section 31 takes this principle as the foundation of its existence. They  _ are _ the extraordinary measures, taken decisively to end any and all threats to the Federation’s existence.”

Mike’s blood ran cold. “You’ve got to be kidding,” he said, dangerously quiet. “An organization like that can’t exist in the Federation.”

“Why not? The Romulans have the Tal Shiar, the Cardassians have the Obsidian Order--”

“We’re supposed to be  _ better _ than them!” Mike snapped, slamming his fist down on the table. Doctor Ouvens didn’t so much as blink. “You’re telling me that all this time, with all of our ideals, our dedication to peace and freedom--we’ve had a goddamned  _ secret police force _ running around?!”

Doctor Ouvens tilted his head from side to side, a gesture of ambiguity. “It’s a bit of an open question, honestly,” he said. “Whether they’re a rogue force acting on their own extreme interpretation of Federation law, or whether that’s just a convenient fiction to keep them a comfortable distance from Starfleet Command. I guess it comes down to how cynical you are.”

Mike buried his face in his hands, rubbing at his eyes. “This is… madness,” he said. “This flies in the face of everything I’ve ever learned. Everything I ever  _ believed _ .”

“I know,” said Doctor Ouvens. “Believe me, captain, I understand your feelings. Unfortunately, I don’t have the luxury of humoring them right now. There is a Section 31 operative aboard the  _ Hawkins _ right at this very moment, and I have no doubt that they were responsible for Ambassador Mawhrin’s death.”

“And what, exactly, makes you so sure of that?” Mike asked, peeking over his fingers.

“There were traces of an organic compound in the ambassador’s system,” Doctor Ouvens said. “Subtle, the sort of thing you wouldn’t notice unless you knew what to look for. The compound in question induces cardiac arrest in the majority of humanoid species. Section 31 favors this compound for deaths that they would prefer be chalked up to natural causes.”

Mike dropped his hands down to the table, his mind beginning to work again. Part of him still wanted to deny everything Doctor Ouvens was saying, to  _ scream _ at him for even daring to suggest such a horrifying thing. Another part, though, was racing through the implications of what he was being told. If what Doctor Ouvens said was true, then the  _ Hawkins  _ was currently host to a skilled assassin, one who had managed to break into Mawhrin’s quarters undetected to carry out the murder. Faces flashed across his mind--his friends, Nancy, El. He’d already failed in his duty to protect Mawhrin. He was  _ not _ going to fail in his duty to protect them.

Drawing in a shaky breath, he spoke. “I’ll call back the senior staff. Between us, we can--”

“I’m sorry, captain,” Doctor Ouvens replied. “I’m afraid that’s not a very good idea.”

Mike eyed him warily. “Why? Are you worried we’ll tip off the assassin?”

“Well, there is that, of course. But you also have to consider…” Doctor Ouvens grimaced slightly, considering his words. “I know you’re used to trusting your friends without question, captain. But we’re in  _ incredibly _ dangerous territory right now. Do you know everywhere they’ve been the last several years? Everyone they’ve talked to? Any one of them could’ve been suborned by Section 31 without you realizing. For that matter, one of them could be the assassin. A senior officer would be well-placed for the job, with their override codes.”

Mike’s teeth ground into each other as he forced himself to remain calm. He narrowed his eyes at Doctor Ouvens. “Or maybe  _ you’re _ working for Section 31, and you’re trying to isolate me so that I’m easier to manipulate.”

He’d expected Doctor Ouvens to be offended, or at least chagrined at the accusation. Instead, the old Tellarite just smiled. “See, now you’re starting to understand,” he said.

“Fine,” Mike growled. “Then it’s you and me. How do you propose we proceed?”

“Personnel movements,” Doctor Ouvens said. “The computer will have a record of who went where on the  _ Hawkins _ last night. I can compare that record to the window for Ambassador Mawhrin’s time of death.”

“You’re suggesting that this highly trained assassin of yours made the mistake of wearing their combadge when they snuck in to kill the ambassador?” Mike asked, raising his eyebrows.

“I’m almost certain that they didn’t,” Doctor Ouvens replied. “However, we can use the records to start narrowing down our list of suspects--eliminate anybody who has a solid alibi.”

“That… makes sense,” Mike admitted. “I’ll pull up the records and bring them down to sickbay so that we can start going over them.”

“Good, I’ll be waiting down there… acting completely natural.” Doctor Ouvens nodded to Mike and began to cross over to the ready room door, picking up his jamming device on the way.

“Doctor--wait,” Mike said as he was about to exit. “One last question--how do you know all of this?”

Doctor Ouvens turned back to him and gave him a look that was almost pitying. “How do you  _ think _ I know all this, captain?”

- - -

“Mike?”

Mike paused outside the door to his office. Nancy was standing a little ways down the hallway, looking at him with the same sympathetic expression she used to use back when they were both teenagers, and he’d gotten into another fight with their father. “I take it you’ve heard, then?” he asked.

She nodded. “It’s all over the ship. Are you doing okay?”

Sighing, Mike opened the door to his office and walked in; Nancy followed close behind him. “Am  _ I _ okay?” Mike asked. “What about you? You’re the one that actually had the chance to befriend the ambassador.”

Nancy shrugged. “I’d known her for a few days, that’s all. She was an interesting person, and her passing is sad, but once I finish writing up my account for the FNN, I’ll have something else to occupy my attention before long.” She smiled ruefully. “Life of a reporter--write the story, move on. No, you’re the one who’s actually going to have to untangle this whole mess.”

Mike’s stomach clenched. She didn’t know the half of it.

“Mike,” Nancy said, her tone growing softer. “I’ve known you longer than anybody on this ship. I can tell when you’re trying to hide your feelings. Come on, it’s just me. You don’t have to pretend.”

Swallowing against a sudden rush of emotion, Mike turned back to her. Stepping forward, he wrapped his arms around her. She returned the embrace, turning her head to the side so that she could rest her cheek on his chest. They stood like that for a long moment, silently, and Mike felt the confusion and fear that had been plaguing him since his talk with Doctor Ouvens drain away just the slightest bit.

“Thanks, Nancy,” he said, stepping back as they broke the embrace. “I’ve missed having you around.”

“Glad I could be here now,” she replied, smiling. “So how is it looking?”

“This is all off the record?” Mike asked as he circled around to the other side of his desk.

“Nothing gets published without your permission,” Nancy said solemnly. “I promise.”

“Well--” Mike started to say, only to stop suddenly as he frowned down at his desktop. Something about it was bothering him; it took him a moment to figure out exactly what. An ink pen lay on his desk,  _ Congratulations Michael _ laser-etched into the stainless steel plating on the side--a gift from his mother for his graduation from the Academy. It was functionally useless given that Starfleet paperwork was done on an entirely electronic basis, but Mike had kept it anyway, and it had occupied a spot of honor on his desk ever since his first officer days, when he’d first gotten a desk of his own.

The thing was, that spot of honor had always been sitting lengthwise, lying parallel to the desk’s top edge. Right now, though, the pen was sitting vertically, lined up with the desk’s rightside edge.

Mike froze, the early beginnings of panic whispering through him. Any other time, he would’ve written it off as an anomaly, something he must have done without thinking, but here and now--

“Mike?”

With a start, Mike realized that Nancy was still standing there, waiting for him to finish what he had been about to say. As he looked up at her, several thoughts flashed through his head at once. He knew her as well as she knew him, knew that she had always been aggressive and uncompromising in her pursuit of the truth. If he told her the truth behind Mawhrin’s death, she would insist on getting involved with the investigation. Hell, he could picture her tearing off on a one-woman crusade to bring down Section 31 in its entirety, no matter how much he might try to protest the danger.

Things were bad enough as it stood. But getting Nancy killed because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut? That was a blow that could shatter him completely.

“Sorry,” he said. “Got a bit lost in my head there. Lots to deal with right now, obviously.” It was true enough, which was the trick of it--he had no doubt that Nancy would catch him right away if he tried to lie outright. “Would you mind giving me a bit of time to get it all sorted out? We can catch up in a little while, talk about what the official press release is going to say.”

Nancy was frowning at him, but she was nodding slowly, apparently not suspicious enough to press the issue. “Yeah, sure,” she said. “I’ll just--well, I’ll find something or other to do in the meantime. Call me if you need me, okay? I mean for anything, not just official business.”

“Of course.” Mike’s smile felt strained, even to him. He willed himself to remain still, sitting at his desk, while Nancy walked to the door, pausing for a moment at the threshold to give him one last questioning look before passing through. Only when the door slid shut behind her did he let his hand snap up to tap his combadge.

“Wheeler to Doctor Ouvens. I need your immediate assistance with something in my office.”

- - -

Doctor Ouvens let out a low whistle as he stared at the terminal at Mike’s desk. “Well, it would seem that our mystery operative is an accomplished hacker as well as assassin. This was a damn good job--clean, almost unnoticeable unless you were specifically looking for it. If they hadn’t bumped your pen as they worked, we probably would never have realized they were here.”

“Glad you’re impressed by their skill at subverting the law and order of the Federation,” Mike grumbled. “Can you tell what they did?”

“You’re not going to like it.”

Mike closed his eyes. “I don’t like  _ anything _ that’s happened in the last couple of hours, doctor. Lay it on me.”

“Well… it looks like they erased the personnel movement logs from last night.”

“Of course they did,  _ damn  _ it,” Mike snarled. “We’ve barely started our investigation and they’re already a step ahead of us. Did they do anything else?”

“Quite likely they did,” Doctor Ouvens replied. “Unfortunately, they  _ also _ erased your terminal’s activity log to cover their tracks, so it’s impossible to say exactly what at this time.”

“ _ Damn _ it,” Mike repeated, leaning his head against the wall.

“Hold on there, captain. I should clarify, when I say ‘at this time’, that’s exactly what I mean.” Mike looked up at Doctor Ouvens, who was looking back at him with a gleam in his eye. “This operative isn’t the only one who knows their way around a computer system. Even after something’s been deleted, it leaves behind junk data that can be used to piece it back together… if you know what you’re doing.”

Mike sucked in a breath. “That’s… impressive. Can you restore the personnel logs as well?”

Doctor Ouvens’ face fell. “Ah. Well,  _ there _ you’re talking about hours’ worth of positional data for several hundred crew members… I’m afraid I’m not quite  _ that _ good, captain.”

“Right.” Mike sighed. “How long to restore the activity logs, then?”

“A couple of hours, rough estimate.”

“Fine. Do it. It’s the only lead we have right now.”

“Well, it’s the only lead  _ I _ have right now,” Doctor Ouvens said as he began to work. “You’ve told me before that you pride yourself on keeping track of your crew, captain. Do you have any thoughts on likely suspects? Anybody whose backstory doesn’t quite add up?”

“No,” replied Mike, irritably. He’d been asking himself the same question, of course, but had come up blank. His senior staff was the most obvious, as Doctor Ouvens had pointed out before, given that they had override codes--no. Just thinking about considering that possibility made Mike feel ill. He wouldn’t--couldn’t--suspect any of them without a damn good reason to. As for the rest of the crew… he mentally flicked through faces, names, but couldn’t come up with anyone who’d come across as even remotely suspicious. It was irrationally frustrating; as much as he knew that it was asking too much of himself, the doctor was right, he  _ did _ pride himself--

_ I pride myself on keeping track of my crew. _

His train of thought jarred to a halt. He’d said that to someone himself, just recently. Now that he thought about it… the context hadn’t struck him as particularly strange just then, but considering it in light of what he knew now…

“Doctor,” he said slowly. “You know Section 31 better than I do. How likely would you say it is that they planted their operative on this ship specifically to carry out this mission?”

“Hm?” Doctor Ouvens looked up, frowning. “Well, it’d be the preferable option, of course. If they already had a deep-cover agent on board the  _ Hawkins _ , then carrying out a high-profile assassination like this would carry a major risk of exposure. And if they  _ didn’t _ , well, then it’s their only option, isn’t it? Why do you ask?”

“Last night,” Mike said. “I ran into an ensign outside of the ambassador’s quarters. She claimed that she was there to check up on the ambassador. It struck me as odd, given that I hadn’t given any such orders, but at the time I assumed she was just another overachieving junior officer.”

Doctor Ouvens nodded slowly. “And this ensign transferred aboard recently?”

“Very recently. She’s the newest crew member on the ship.” Mike cast his memory back. “She came aboard at Starbase 413, the stop before we picked up the ambassador at Starbase 83.”

“Which was the same stop where we got our marching orders for this mission.”

Mike pursed his lips thoughtfully. “It’s all circumstantial evidence.”

“It adds up. And it’s the best we have to go on right now.” Doctor Ouvens gave him a hard look. “We’re not building a legal case here, captain. We’re trying to track down a serious threat to the ship’s safety. If you’re wrong, we’re no worse off than we were before. But if you’re right…”

Mike nodded. “I’ll track her down.”

“Remember who we’re dealing with here, captain!” Doctor Ouvens called as Mike turned to leave. “Be careful!”

- - -

Ensign Te’ra was in Engineering, and she wasn’t alone. “Captain!” Robin said as Mike entered the room. “What are you doing down here?”

“Hello, Ensign Buckley. I’m just… touring the ship, making sure everything’s going smoothly.” Mike looked at Robin while watching Te’ra out of the corner of his eye. She didn’t react visibly to his presence; of course, given that she was a Vulcan and quite possibly a trained infiltrator, he hadn’t been expecting her to. “Actually… I asked Dustin to prepare some reports regarding some interstellar terrain we’ll be passing through. Would you mind fetching those from his lab and running them over to my office?”

“Huh?” Robin cocked her head to the side slightly. “I mean, of course. I’ll just finish up here, Commander Byers asked me to recalibrate--”

“Now, if you please,” Mike said evenly. “You can tell Commander Byers that it was captain’s orders.”

Robin didn’t bother to conceal her expression of bewilderment, and Mike was sure he detected more than a little irritation mixed in there as well. Nonetheless, she replied, “Right away, sir,” and strode out of the room, the door whispering shut behind her.

“So, Ensign Te’ra.” Te’ra turned around to face him as he spoke, her face impassive. Mike smiled blandly back at her, his captain’s mask slipping down easily to conceal the anger and fear that was churning inside of him. “I did tell you that I’d remember you, didn’t I? How are your duties going?”

“They are proceeding in a satisfactory manner, sir,” she replied. Was it just him, or was she being just a little stiff, even for a Vulcan? No, it wasn’t just him--he’d spent enough time around Vulcans to learn how to read their subtle emotional cues. She was putting on a front just as much as he was.

“That’s good to hear,” he said. “I like to check up on new crew members, make sure that they’re settling in well.”

“With respect, sir, I’m surprised that you chose to do so now, of all times. I would think that you have plenty to deal with as things stand.”

“You’re referring to the ambassador’s unfortunate passing last night?” Mike’s smile grew a little broader, covering the urge to contort his face in fury. “I appreciate your concern, but that matter is well in hand.”

“I suppose that there’s not that much to do when someone dies of natural causes,” Te’ra said. “Once you’ve filled out the paperwork, of course.”

Aha. She was trying to redirect him--she knew he suspected, but didn’t realize how much. Time to wrong-foot her. “Actually,” he replied, “what I meant is that the  _ investigation _ into the ambassador’s death is proceeding apace.”

There--one of her eyebrows twitched up. For a Vulcan, it was a major tell. “You suspect foul play, then?” she asked. To her credit, the question sounded sincere.

“Well, you have to admit that the circumstances are odd,” Mike said. “A major figure like that, just suddenly dropping dead en route to a major summit. It seemed prudent to at least investigate the possibility.”

“I see,” Te’ra replied. She looked past Mike, frowning softly in puzzlement at something behind him. Without thinking, he turned to look, and in that moment of distraction, she lunged forward and struck.

Her fingertips jabbed into his neck, sending shocks tingling down his spine and limbs. His legs collapsed underneath him, and his head cracked dully into the wall as he flopped over, his body suddenly gone completely limp. Vaguely, he was aware of a rush of movement as Te’ra stepped over him and went out the door, moving with swift purpose.

Mike collected himself, forcing himself to think through the daze that had overcome him. By rights, he should have been out cold--Te’ra’s aim must have been slightly off in her haste to incapacitate him. That small slip-up was cold comfort to him as he painfully dragged one hand up and over to his combadge. “Wheeler to Doctor Ouvens,” he groaned.

“ _ I  _ ** _did_ ** _ warn you to be careful, captain, _ ” Doctor Ouvens replied.

“Yes,  _ thank you _ for that advice,” Mike said. “She’s running. Can you track her?”

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. “ _ The computer says that she’s standing still a few feet away from the door to the room you’re currently in, _ ” Doctor Ouvens replied. “ _ I’m going to be sensible and assume that means that she’s ditched her combadge. _ ”

Damn it. “Yes, okay,” Mike said. “Then what if… can you do the inverse? Filter out any life signs on the ship that  _ do _ have combadges on them?”

“ _ That’s… possible, certainly, _ ” said Doctor Ouvens. “ _ I make no promises on how quickly I can accomplish it. _ ”

“As fast as you can,” Mike said. “I’ll try to think of something else in the meantime.” So much for tracking her. The only other thing he could do was try to anticipate where she would go. If he was a spy whose cover had just been blown…

Well, he’d try to escape, of course.

“Wheeler to Commander Sinclair,” he said, tapping his badge. “I need you to lock down the shuttle bays. I mean  _ completely _ , everything we have to keep them where we are. And direct all personnel to clear out as well.”

“ _ Captain, what-- _ ”

“This is not a conversation, Lucas,” Mike snapped. “These are orders.  _ Do it _ .”

“ _ ...yes, sir, _ ” Lucas replied.

With only moderate difficulty, Mike pulled himself up to his feet. His legs protested, but they no longer felt like they were made of jelly. “Doctor,” he said. “I think that she’s going to be heading for a shuttle. Try narrowing your search accordingly.”

“ _ I concur, captain, and that will make the search go a bit faster, _ ” Doctor Ouvens replied. Then, “ _ I know I’m not going to dissuade you from confronting her, but as your physician, I do feel compelled to remind you that Vulcans are, on average, about three times as strong as humans, and somewhat faster to boot. _ ”

“I’m painfully aware of that, doctor,” Mike replied as he stepped through the door. Something caught his eye further down the hallway--an emergency locker, used to store phasers that could be retrieved in the event the  _ Hawkins _ was boarded. “I’ll be ready for her.”

- - -

The phaser trembled slightly in Mike’s hand as he stepped into the shuttle bay. “You’re sure she’s in this one?” he asked in a low voice.

“ _ Somewhere, _ ” Doctor Ouven’s voice replied from his combadge. “ _ Sensor resolution is too low to give me an exact position. I’m afraid you’re on your own now, captain. _ ”

Naturally, the shuttle bay was cluttered with an impressive variety of heavy equipment--not to mention the shuttle itself--providing any number of potential spots for Te’ra to conceal herself. Mike revolved slowly, phaser trained outwards. There were too many to keep an eye on all at once, and if he turned his back to the wrong spot…

“Captain Wheeler.” Te’ra’s voice echoed through the bay, making Mike start slightly. “It is unfortunate that we find ourselves at odds. By rights, we should not be enemies.”

So she wanted to talk, then. That suited him fine. “What can I say?” Mike asked, straining his ears in vain to try and locate where her voice was coming from. “I tend to get a little upset when somebody infiltrates my ship and assassinates the dignitary I’m supposed to be taking care of.”

“Ambassador Mawhrin was unworthy,” Te’ra replied. “She would have had us compromise ourselves, treating with tyrants and monsters out of some misguided sense of  _ peace _ .” She nearly sneered the last word. “She had to be removed so that the Federation could remain pure and true to itself.”

“That’s a fine moral lecture coming from somebody who’s guilty of cold-blooded murder,” Mike responded, turning again. Still no hint of where she was hidden. “At least one, although I’ve got a nasty feeling that this wasn’t your first wetwork mission.”

“You’re being naive, captain. Our enemies do not shy away from espionage and covert action. It is only logical for us to have a counter of our own in place, to defend against their attempts to undermine us.”

“A counter to them--you mean unaccountable operations and extrajudicial execution, like what you pulled here? That’s an insult to the Federation and anybody who ever believed in its ideals. I’m seeing exactly one thing undermining us, Te’ra, and it’s  _ you _ .”

“I-- _ we _ \--do what must be done, for the good of the Federation.”

“Doing what must be done, huh? That’s funny, the ambassador had a similar rationale for her dealings with the Azadans. For someone who couldn’t stand her, you sure think a lot like her--”

“I am nothing like that traitor.” Te’ra’s voice remained controlled, but had grown distinctly tighter; the nuance wasn’t lost on Mike. Was that the way it was? The inklings of a plan started to form in his mind, and he lowered his phaser, adjusting the settings.

“So what exactly is your plan here, Te’ra?” he asked, changing tacks. “You have to realize that even if you do manage to escape the ship, I’ve got enough information on my hands to blow your cover wide open. You think there’ll still be work in Federation space for a compromised operative?” He allowed a nasty smile to cross his face. “Maybe you could make a break for Romulan space, see if they’ll let you join the Tal Shiar.”

“I would never,” Te’ra said, her voice dipping dangerously close to a snarl. He’d hit a nerve.

“Aw, don’t be like that,” Mike said with as much snideness as he could muster. “It’d be awkward at first, sure, but you’ve got so much in common--cracking down on political dissidents, for starters. And I’m sure they’d help you let go of that Vulcan stick up your--”

A clatter from behind him warned of Te’ra’s approach, but by the time he turned around, she was already on top of him. The phaser was knocked from his hand as she plowed into him, clattering to the deck just out of reach as he was slammed into the ground with enough force to drive the air from his lungs. Te’ra landed on top of him, straddling his torso, one hand pinning his wrist to the deck to keep him from reaching for the fallen phaser, while the other one closed around his throat, with enough force that he had to strain to breathe in the smallest traces of air.

“You are as unworthy as the ambassador,” Te’ra said, her face a hard mask. “Your childish insults mean nothing to me.”

That obviously wasn’t true, but Mike couldn’t suck in enough breath to make the point.

“The difference between us,” Te’ra continued, “is that you are blinded by your convictions, while I am willing to follow logic to the truth.”

Mike finally managed to gasp some air into his burning lungs. “No,” he wheezed. “The difference between us is that you’re all alone, while I’ve got people watching my back.”

Te’ra opened her mouth to respond. At that moment, though, Mike’s dropped phaser--which he had set to stun, and then to overload--exploded in an eruption of energy that washed over the two of them like slamming into a steel bulkhead.

Everything went dark.

- - -

Mike was lying on a bed, and his head hurt.

Reluctantly, he peeled open his eyes, squinting against the harsh lights overhead. The blurry details of the room around him resolved into sickbay. He sat up in his bed, ignoring the throbbing protest this drew from his head, and spotted Doctor Ouvens working at a terminal on the other end of the room.

“Captain!” the doctor exclaimed, dropping what he was doing and bustling over to Mike’s bed. “Glad to see you’re back with us. How are you feeling?”

“Head hurts,” Mike grunted. He sucked in a sudden breath as memories began to filter back into his addled brain. “Te’ra. Where--?”

“Ah.” Doctor Ouvens’ face fell. “She’s dead, I’m afraid.”

“Dead?” Mike’s eyes went wide. “Did I--?”

“No, no, your trick with the phaser merely stunned her, as I’m sure you intended it to,” said Doctor Ouvens. “Her death is entirely on my head. The moment she came to and realized that she was in custody, she triggered a suicide implant.” He spread his hands helplessly. “I did my best to salvage her, but… I should have anticipated it. I’m afraid I’ve gotten a bit rusty at this whole business.”

Mike nodded. Thankfully, the pain was starting to fade from his head. “Nothing we can do about it at this point. How long have I been out?”

“Only a few hours. Your senior staff have all been in to check on you, as has your sister. On a related note, I believe that you’re going to be treated to several lectures on running off to confront dangerous problems without consulting your friends, in the near future.” Doctor Ouvens smiled apologetically. “I also had to dissuade Lieutenant Hopper from conducting another bedside vigil.”

Mike found himself wishing that he hadn’t. El’s presence was grounding in a way that he really could’ve used right now. “What did you tell them?”

“About Te’ra? That she was a political extremist who assassinated the ambassador for ideological reasons. Not exactly a lie, but…”

“...not the entire truth, either.” Mike grimaced. “Damn it all. I don’t like this.”

“I know.” Doctor Ouvens’ expression was sympathetic. “I’m sorry, captain. There’s nothing clean or pretty about this world you’ve stepped into.” He sighed. “On that note… I’ve successfully uncovered what it was Te’ra did when she broke into your terminal.”

Mike looked at him wearily. “Yes?”

“Well… it seems that she spoofed your clearance credentials to gain access to a number of classified files. She then transmitted these files to an unknown third party via subspace relay.”

“Her handlers in Section 31, no doubt. So we’ve got a security breach on top of everything else that’s happened today.” Mike rubbed at his temples. “What files did she transmit?”

“I identified two of… particular concern,” replied Doctor Ouvens. “The first was the complete debriefing regarding Lieutenant Henderson’s recent foray into the interstitial dimensional space that he refers to as the ‘In Between’.”

“Shit,” Mike hissed. The whole point of classifying that had been to keep it out of the wrong hands. “What’s the other one?”

“It’s… well…” The hesitation from Doctor Ouvens made Mike look up at him again, frowning. “The other one was… all of your files regarding Lieutenant Hopper and her abilities.”

Mike stared at him, a hollow pit forming in his stomach.

- - -

“Enter,” El called in response to the chime.

Mike stepped through the door. El was sitting at the other end of the room, in front of a terminal that was chirping happily at her; she shot to her feet as he walked in. “Mike!” she said, crossing over to him in a few swift strides. “You’re awake! I was so--I mean, I can’t believe that you--it’s been just--I can’t--” She let out an aggravated sigh. “Oh, for goodness’ sake. Permission to hug you, captain?”

“Uh, granted,” Mike replied, adding an “oof!” as El stepped into him and wrapped her arms around his torso. He returned the embrace awkwardly. “Is everything okay?” he asked as she stepped back out of it.

“Okay? I was so  _ worried _ about you,” El replied with an edge of frustration. “I… I’m sorry to get so worked up, captain. It’s just, last I knew you were perfectly fine, if feeling a bit down, and then suddenly we all hear that you nearly got yourself killed chasing down an infiltrator… it was really sudden.”

“Oh.” Mike blinked. He’d been so preoccupied with worrying about El in the face of his conversation with Doctor Ouvens, that he hadn’t stopped to consider the inverse. “I’m… sorry.”

“Decorum requires that I tell you it’s fine,” El said, crossing her arms. “But I think it’s only fair to warn you that I intend to continue being annoyed about it for a little while longer.” The corners of her lips pulled up slightly, the ghost of a teasing smile.

Mike’s lips twitched in response, attempting to mirror her, but he didn’t have a smile in him right now. “Lieutenant--El--I need to talk to you about something,” he said.

Her smile disappeared, and she cocked her head to the side quizzically. “What is it?”

“It’s…” Mike suddenly realized that he’d rushed over here without actually planning how to approach the conversation. What was safe to tell her? “I just wanted to know…” he began, “I mean, I wanted to ask… have you been approached by anybody suspicious lately? Had any interactions that struck you as just… unusual, somehow?”

“Unusual?” Her look of curiosity deepened into confusion. “I… don’t think so, but I’m not quite sure what you mean. Is there something in particular that you’re worried about?”

Mike’s jaw tightened as he looked at her. A little voice in his head--one that sounded an awful lot like Doctor Ouvens--urged him to deflect the question, to tell her that it was nothing, not to worry about it. Keeping everything under wraps would be easy; he just needed to lie to her.

Damn it.

Damn it all, he couldn’t.

“El,” he sighed. “I… need to tell you something.”

So he told her, everything that had happened since their meeting that morning--from Doctor Ouvens’ revelations, to the break-in on the terminal in his office, to his confrontation with Te’ra. By the end of it, El was sitting on the end of her bed, her face gone white as a sheet as she stared at him.

“I know,” he said as he finished. “I know it’s all overwhelming, it seems like madness--I felt the same way when Doctor Ouvens told me about it this morning. But this whole incident bears it out. Operators of Te’ra’s level… they don’t just come out of nowhere.”

El looked at the floor. “And are you sure that Doctor Ouvens isn’t still working for this Section 31?” she asked, voice tight.

“No,” Mike replied bluntly. “I’m not sure of anything anymore. Least of all who I can trust.”

“Of course.” El looked back up at him, her voice growing smaller. “Mike?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for trusting me.”

Mike blinked, momentarily taken aback.

El’s gaze dropped back to the ground. “Do you have any idea what Section 31 wants with me?”

“No,” Mike sighed. He stepped over and eased himself down, sitting next to her on the bed. “I don’t know, and to be frank, I don’t really care. They can’t have you, not as long as you’re on my ship.”

El turned to him, eyes wide.

“I mean it, El,” he continued. “If anything  _ does _ happen--I mean anything at all, anything that strikes you as suspicious, no matter how small--I want you to come to me, and we’ll look into it right away. I’m  _ not _ letting another one of these bastards slip aboard my ship, and I sure as  _ hell _ am not letting them do anything to my--” He hesitated, momentarily caught on his words. “--to my friend,” he finished.

She lifted a hand and lightly placed it on top of his. “Okay,” she said, softly. “But that goes for you too. If you find anything--anything at all that I could help with--find me, and I’ll drop everything I’m doing to work on it. I don’t...” She let her hand slide off, turning her face away from him. “I don’t want you to have to do this alone.”

“That’ll likely mean having to work with Doctor Ouvens,” Mike pointed out.

“I can put up with that,” El replied, narrowing her eyes. “For your sake.”

For what felt like the first time that day, Mike felt a smile--a real smile, an honest, genuine smile--cross his face. “Thank you,” he said. “That’s… actually quite a compliment.”

She nudged his arm slightly with hers. “What can I say, captain?” she said. “You have this tendency to inspire loyalty in your crew.”

Mike nodded, his smile faltering slightly. He certainly  _ hoped _ that was true. “Um, would you like me to…?” he began to ask, indicating the door with a tilt of his head.

She shook her head negative. “You can stay a little while longer. If you want to.”

He did want to. Eventually, he knew, he’d have to walk through that door, back into the mess that was the wider galaxy--a mess that had just gotten more complicated than he could’ve imagined. For now, though, he was content to just spend a little time with El beside him.

It was nice, feeling like he wasn’t alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And *whew*, so concludes my first two-parter for this series. But does that mean the end of this story arc? Of course not, that would be boring.


	13. Fallout

Happy, relaxed chatter filled the air in the  _ Hawkins’ _ canteen, but the mood at the table where Lucas, Max, Dustin, and Will were sitting was neither of those things.

“I don’t suppose Mike said anything to you?” Will asked. He was fiddling with his cup of raktajino, barely sipping at it, a sure sign that something was wrong.

Lucas sighed. “He said exactly what he’s been saying the last couple of weeks, which is that he had some ‘stuff’ that he wanted to deal with and that he probably wouldn’t make it down to the canteen. Hence, why he isn’t here. Again.”

“Is it just me, or has he been acting super weird lately?” Dustin asked.

“No, it’s  _ not _ just you,” Max said. “He’s been acting weird ever since that incident with the ambassador getting assassinated. He just shows up for his shifts, does his work, and then disappears off to who knows where--doesn’t do any of his usual downtime stuff, doesn’t talk to anybody--”

“Oh, he’s  _ talking _ to somebody, all right,” Lucas said. “You notice he and El are spending an awful lot of time together lately?”

“Ooo.” Dustin raised his eyebrows. “You think they’re finally…” He puckered his lips and made smooching noises.

“No,” said Lucas and Max in unison.

“Trust us, we’ve been waiting on  _ that _ for ages now,” Max said. “But this is something else. They’re still holding back around each other--you know that awkward dance they do to avoid realizing that they really just want to take turns pinning each other to the wall and--”

“ _ Besides _ ,” Will interrupted. “It’s not just him and El, either.” Everybody turned to look at him. “You haven’t noticed? Whatever this… thing they’ve got going on is, Doctor Ouvens is in on it. I’ve noticed both of them getting into deep conversations with him when they think we’re not looking.”

“You’re kidding,” Max said. “Mike, sure, but El? She can’t stand that guy, not after the way he handled that business with the Romulan captive.”

“I’m pretty sure she still doesn’t like him,” Will said. “But she  _ is _ talking to him, whatever the reason.”

“Hang on,” Dustin said. “Wasn’t Doctor Ouvens also mixed up in that business with the assassin?”

“You think this has something to do with that?” Max asked.

“You said yourself that it was when Mike started acting weird,” Dustin replied. “I don’t know exactly how El fits into the picture just yet, but it’s a solid working hypothesis. I think something happened with that, something more than what we were told.”

“And instead of us, Mike’s confiding in the two senior officers who  _ haven’t _ known him since the Academy.” Lucas leaned back in his chair, tilting his head back with a heavy sigh. “Not gonna lie, that hurts a little bit.”

“And El too,” Max added. “Dammit, I  _ knew _ she was acting cagey lately. I just didn’t know what to make of it.”

“And Doctor Ouvens… um…” Dustin trailed off, unsure how to end the sentence.

“No, we expect that from him,” Will said.

“Yeah, he’s always been a little weird,” Lucas agreed.

Their conversation was interrupted by their combadges chiming.

“ _ Prasad to all senior staff, _ ” Kali’s voice said. “ _ We’re picking something up on the sensors… looks like it’s some kind of derelict ship. Klingon, as near as we’re able to tell. _ ”

“ _ Thank you, Ms. Prasad, _ ” Mike’s voice said. “ _ All senior staff, report to your stations immediately. _ ”

“Well,” Will sighed as they all rose. “Duty calls.”

“Okay, but this conversation isn’t over,” Max said. “We are getting to the bottom of whatever this is, no matter what.”

“Agreed,” said Lucas. “I’m not about to let this go.”

- - -

The Klingon ship spun in a slow, queasy tumble on the viewscreen.

“It’s not a combat vessel,” El said, frowning down at the data on her console. “Looks to me like some kind of cargo ship. They must have been coming through here on a supply run.”

“Unescorted?” Max asked from the tactical station.

El shrugged. “We’re friendly territory, at least nominally. And the Klingons view the Federation as hopelessly pacifistic. I don’t think they expected to run into any trouble out here.”

“Well, clearly they were wrong,” Mike said from the captain’s chair. “Can you tell what happened to them, Ms. Hopper?”

“Well, I can tell you that they  _ didn’t _ get into a fight,” El said. “No phaser burns or torpedo damage on their hull, nor indeed any type of external structural damage that I’m able to find.” She turned halfway in her chair toward Mike. “I’d hypothesize some kind of internal technical problem, except that I can’t think of anything that would cause this level of failure without blowing the engine outright.”

Mike lifted an eyebrow. “How bad are we talking?”

“Bad. Everything’s offline, computer, communications, even…” El blanched slightly, “...even life support. This ship’s as dead as it gets, captain.”

“Hm.” Mike leaned back in his chair. “Troubling.”

“I don’t suppose I could convince you to write a note in your report and move on?” Max asked. “Maybe even blow it to scrap, just to be sure?”

“No, Ms. Mayfield,” Mike said. “The Klingons are our allies. We owe them any answers that we can get.”

At another time, that kind of chiding might have drawn a witty rejoinder from Max. As things stood, her lips simply tightened into a small, annoyed frown, and she said nothing.

“At any rate,” Mike continued, “we should get an away team over there to investigate, right away.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Lucas said. Without further preamble, he spun on his heel and marched off the bridge, headed for the transporter room. He’d barely made it a dozen meters down the hallway, though, when Mike’s voice from behind him stopped him in his tracks.

“Lucas?”

Lucas executed another swift turn to face back towards him. “Is there a problem, captain?”

“No.” Mike was advancing slowly down the hallway toward him, looking confused and concerned. “I mean… I don’t think so. It’s just that the way that you left the bridge was awfully… abrupt. Is everything okay?”

“Oh, I see.” Lucas snorted. “So when it’s  _ me _ who’s not talking to  _ you _ ,  _ then _ that’s a problem. But when  _ you _ \--” He bit off the end of the sentence, seeing the expression of shock on Mike’s face. “Oh, damn it.”

“Lucas--”

“Look, Mike--captain--we both know this isn’t the right time for this.” Lucas turned his face away from Mike, jaw clenching slightly. “Just--forget it, okay? I’ve got an away mission to pull together. We’ll deal with it later.” Without waiting for a response, he set off again down the hallway, taking it in long, angry strides.

_ Let’s see how  _ ** _he _ ** _ likes being the one who’s getting blown off _ , he said to himself, though he hated himself a little for the thought.

- - -

The bright light of the transporter faded away, and Lucas was standing in a darkened corridor, illuminated only by the light from his helmet’s built-in headlamp.

“Oh, great, it’s another creepy one,” Steve’s voice said over the comm in his ear. “Why do I always get assigned to the creepy ones?”

“Because you’re developing a track record of experience dealing with them,” Lucas replied, “whether you like it or not.” He signaled with his hand, and the two other members of his away team, Steve and a member of the security team named Ulik, stepped forward to flank him. “Sinclair to  _ Hawkins _ . We’re aboard the Klingon ship; nothing immediately obvious is wrong except that nothing’s working.”

“ _ Understood, commander. Keep us updated, and be careful. _ ” Mike’s tone betrayed no hint of their earlier confrontation, though that hardly surprised Lucas given how good the man was at compartmentalizing. He  _ did _ detect a trace of worry, however, which made his stomach twist guiltily. He supposed that if their positions had reversed, and Mike had been the one to head off into an unknown situation immediately after a fight, he also would’ve been worrying about what could potentially be the last words between them.

Damn it, he needed to focus.

“Coming up on a junction,” he said. “Ulik, you see anything out of the ordinary?”

“No, sir.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on,” Steve said. “Up there, look.” The direction he was looking was clearly indicated by his headlamp splashing over the wall; Lucas looked in the same direction and saw what he was indicating. High up, just a few inches from the ceiling, was a vent, and  _ something _ was spilling out of it, a dark, amorphous mass clinging to the wall, tendrils a few inches long winding in erratic patterns.

“What  _ is _ that?” Ulik asked.

“Good question. Just a sec…” Steve went to the wall, pulling a small metal rod from his belt.

“Careful, Ensign,” Lucas said sharply. “What are you doing with that, anyway?”

“This is my poking stick,” Steve said. “Henderson gave it to me to poke stuff with when I’m not sure what it is. Says it’s the most valuable tool a science officer can have.” Using indents in the wall as makeshift hand- and foot-holds, he hoisted himself up, reaching to scrape at the mass. “Damn. Spongy but tough,” he commented as he settled back down to the ground.

“What do you think it is?” Lucas asked.

“Best guess? Some kinda fungus or moss analogue,” Steve said. “It’s not coming off, either. I think it might actually be rooted into the metal.”

“Fungus or moss… that can eat into metal?” Ulik asked. There was a moment of quiet as all three of them pondered the implications of this.

“So, uh,” Steve said, voice slightly higher than it was a moment ago. “It looks a little bit like it’s coming out from  _ inside _ that wall, doesn’t it?”

“It looks a  _ lot _ like that,” Lucas said. “Sinclair to  _ Hawkins _ . Do you have a read on where the emergency data backup is for a craft of this type? I’ve stumbled across some pretty serious questions that need answering, and I think that we’ll find the answers in there.”

“ _ One moment… transmitting location, _ ” El replied.

“Let’s get moving,” Lucas said to the other two. “I’ve got a nasty feeling that I know what happened here…”

- - -

The Klingon captain’s face peered out at them from a darkened space, distorted by damage to the system she was using to record. “ _ Final log, _ ” she said. “ _ Our idle curiosity has cost us dearly, it would seem… this damnable fungus can apparently fire its spores even through the vacuum of space, and it has torn through most of our ship in less than a day. We’ve attempted everything we can think of to contain its spread… electrocuting it only slows its growth temporarily, and it spreads faster than we can burn it away… it is truly a tenacious and formidable foe. I would destroy my ship to take it with us, but it has managed to cripple every system that I could use to do such a thing. _ ” Her lips peeled back, revealing a wicked set of teeth, letting out a huff of sardonic laughter. “ _ It seems I must admit defeat. If you are watching this, I hope for your sake that you have found my recording in time, for you have surely approached us as closely as we approached that asteroid… may you have better luck in your battle than I had in mine. _ ”

The recording ended, leaving the assembled staff in the ready room sitting in stunned silence.

Dustin spoke first. “Well… shit.”

“It seems we’re due for our regularly scheduled crisis.” Mike rubbed at his temples. “Okay, we can double-check once we actually get moving, but let’s go ahead and assume that this fungus… stuff has infected the  _ Hawkins _ . Ideas? Solutions? Talk to me, people.”

“We focus on containment first,” Max said. “Having a solution means nothing if this stuff grows out of control while we’re coming up with it.”

“Agreed,” El said. “She mentioned that electrocuting it will slow its growth down. I should be able to find any significant masses without too much trouble if I’m looking for them; we can send teams in to hit them with something like high-intensity stun bursts from our phasers.”

“If you can corral them that way,” Will added, “my people should be able to section off and energize portions of the hull. Hopefully that will keep it locked down in the short term.”

“I’m liking the sound of this,” Mike said. “What about permanent solutions? Dustin?”

“Well, from the sound of it, we  _ can _ torch it out of the  _ Hawkins _ ,” Dustin said, “but since that would involve damaging our systems in the process, I think we should keep that as a last-ditch option. It’d be way better if I could come up with some kind of chemical compound to do the job--a fungicide, if you will--but in order to do that…”

“...you’re going to need a sample of the stuff,” Lucas finished, raising an amused eyebrow.

“It’s a scientific necessity, I  _ swear _ .”

“Okay. This is sounding like a plan. This is good.” Mike folded his hands in front of his face. “Lucas, Max, El, you’re coordinating the containment teams. Track down any patches of infection and keep them locked down.” They nodded. “Dustin, you’re in the lab working on your fungicide. Will, I want you on standby, ready to work with him so we can figure out how to disperse it through the  _ Hawkins _ once it’s ready. I’ll be on call, of course, so if there are any developments, don’t hesitate to, uh…” His eyes flickered over to Lucas, involuntarily. “Well, to talk to me. Does everybody understand their jobs?”

“Yes, sir!” the room replied as one.

- - -

“...oh, looks like another growth on Section 23 of Deck 9,” El said, frowning at her tablet. “They’re popping up everywhere. This stuff grows like nothing I’ve ever seen before; no wonder it tore through that Klingon ship so quickly. I’m going to redirect one of your teams to handle it, if that’s all right?”

“Hm,” Max said by way of apparent agreement. Her lower body was currently hanging out of a service duct; flashes of light accompanied by the high-pitched sound of phaser fire came from within. After a few moments of this, she slid her torso out of the duct and dropped to the deck. “Gareth, the growth on Deck 11 is primed,” she said. “Hit the juice.”

“ _ Yes, commander, _ ” a voice responded from her combadge. A sharp crackling sounded from inside the duct as the hull surged with energy.

“All right,” Max said, brushing her hands off. “Next one?”

“Oh. Um… Deck 20, section 19.” El fell into step beside Max as the two of them strode down the hallway, walking quietly for a bit. “Um… Max?” she asked at length. “Is there something bothering you?”

“Ship’s being eaten alive by space fungus,” Max replied, not looking at her. “Does that not qualify as something wrong?”

“Well, yes, of course. It’s just that… forgive me if I’m prying too much here… you’ve been awfully quiet this whole time. Normally, when there’s a crisis, you respond with  _ more _ banter.”

Max let out a heavy sigh. “Damn it. Do you really have me figured out that well…? I feel like I barely have you figured out at all.”

“I’m… sorry?”

“No, it’s just…” Max finally let her gaze slip over to El. “I mean… El, we’re friends, aren’t we?”

El blinked. “I’ve been assuming so.”

Max nodded, but her mouth pulled tight, corners turning downward into an expression of consternation. “You… do realize that you can talk to me, right, El? I know that I come on strong a lot, and I don’t know if that makes me seem aggressive, or frivolous, or--”

“Max!” El interjected. “There’s nothing wrong with the way you are. I feel perfectly comfortable talking to you.”

“Not about  _ everything _ ,” Max said.

The confusion melted off of El’s face, replaced for a fleeting moment by shock, and then by a carefully composed neutral expression. “If you’re talking about…”

“I don’t  _ know _ what I’m talking about, that’s the whole point,” Max said. “I don’t know, maybe it’s nothing, maybe I’m just being stupid. You’re allowed to have secrets from me, if that’s what you want. It’s just, whatever this secret is that you’re keeping with Mike, it’s clearly bothering you and it’s clearly bothering him. We’ve all noticed, and we want to help, but we can’t as long as you’re keeping us all shut out.”

Now it was El who wasn’t looking at Max, a slight working of muscles as her jaw tightened the only thing in her expression that betrayed any feelings.

“Like talking to a Vulcan here,” Max muttered. “Look, El… if you really feel like Mike is the only person on this ship you can trust with this, well, that honestly stings a bit, but I guess I can understand it.” She snorted. “If anything, Mike’s the one who surprises me. He’s always been so straightlaced and put-together. I wouldn’t have pegged him as the type to go thinking with his dick like this.”

“Thinking with his--?!” El gaped at her, all pretense of composure forgotten. “A-are you suggesting that the captain and I are--?!”

“Oh, spare me,  _ spare me _ ,” Max groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Speaking of things everybody has noticed, El, you two have been mooning over each other for  _ months _ now. I don’t know  _ why _ you’re so intent on keeping up this ridiculous dance…”

“Dance?!” El had turned bright red by this point. “Max, he’s my commanding officer!”

Max shrugged. “Yeah, and Lucas is mine. Hasn’t stopped us, and as I recall, you didn’t really think it was a problem when you were prodding us to get our shit sorted out.” She glanced over at El, who was looking thoroughly flustered. “Have you really not realized--?”

“Mike is a friend,” El said quickly. “A… very good friend.”

“A friend who gives you this warm, tingly feeling inside every time you see him?” Max asked.

“Well, yes…”

“Who you could talk to for hours about anything, just because you’re talking to  _ him _ ?”

“That’s… I mean…”

“Who maybe you’ve imagined cuddling up to sometimes, because no matter how bad things are, they can’t be  _ all _ bad as long as you’re close to him?”

El came to a dead halt in the middle of the hallway, staring wide-eyed down at the floor.

“El?” Max whirled around, coming back to her and gripping her by the shoulders. “Shit, El, I’m  _ so _ sorry, this is absolutely the wrong time to talk about this, this was the worst possible time for me to break you, come on, I’m sorry but I  _ need  _ you here--”

“Max!” El said, her gaze snapping back up with a suddenness that made Max flinch. “I’m… I’ll be fine. I, uh… just need a little bit of room to think, here.”

“Oh… yeah. Yeah, of course.” The two of them resumed walking, thick, awkward silence following them down the hallway like a cloud of fog, all the way into the turbolift.

“Max?” El finally said when the turbolift had started moving.

“Hm?”   
  


“This secret we’ve been keeping… Mike didn’t tell me because he trusts me more than he trusts you. He told me because… well, because he had reason to believe that there was a threat to my safety, and he wanted me to be ready, just in case. I’m grateful that he did… but I’m also sorry that it hurt you.”

“Oh, El.” Max laid a soft hand on her shoulder. “Look, let’s just… get through this right now, all right? We can figure all of this out when the ship’s not about to get torn apart.”

“That does sound wise.” El buried herself back in her tablet.

- - -

“Hoo!” Dustin cheered. “Yep, that definitely got a reaction. I’m close here, guys, I’m really close.”

“That is looking good,” Will said, idly leaning on a nearby piece of equipment. “You getting a sense yet what kind of dispersal method we’re looking at for this?”

“Oh, aerosol, definitely. It’ll be optimal for the compound, and it should be easy to spread it everywhere we need it.”

“It’ll also be easy for the crew to breathe it in,” Will grumbled. “So I’m going to have to figure  _ that _ out, I suppose.”

“A fairly small problem, considering where we started from.” Mike was sitting hunched over on a stool, watching Dustin work with distracted disinterest. “Good job. We’re almost home.” He nudged the floor with his toe, sending himself spinning around in a lazy circle that came to a stop at an angle which left him gazing directly at Will. He let out a sigh. “Okay. Go ahead and say it.”

“Say what?” Will flicked his gaze over, raising a single eyebrow.

“Let’s just skip past the part where we dance around what we’re not saying. Lucas already let me have it earlier, and I’ll eat my captain’s pips if you two don’t have similar sentiments to express. So. Go ahead and say it.”

“Well, if you’re going to ask like that…” Will shifted position so that he was facing Mike full-on, arms crossed over his chest. “Ten years, Mike. Ten  _ fucking _ years.”

Dustin let out a low whistle.

“You were literally the first friend I met at the Academy,” Will continued. “I have known you from the very beginning--ever since you were a cadet,  _ captain _ . We’ve been close friends for all this time. Hell, for a while, we were  _ more _ , and we managed to go back to being friends afterwards, which is something of a minor miracle given how that usually goes.” Will sucked in a deep breath and shook his head. “I just thought… after all of that, I thought that it went without saying that you could come to me with  _ anything _ , Mike. If not as your subordinate officer, then as your friend who loves you.”

Mike nodded slowly. “That’s… fair. I’m going to need some time to think before I can respond completely, so for now, I’ll just say that I’m sorry.” He looked at Dustin. “What about you?”

“Shit, man, I don’t think I can follow that up,” Dustin said. “Will kinda covered it all. You’ve been hiding shit from us, which, okay, but you’ve been confiding it in people who haven’t known you nearly as long? Like El I can completely understand, but Doctor Ouvens? Not who I would have picked, personally.”

“Not really who I would have picked, either,” Mike said, half to himself. 

Will tilted his head, frowning quizzically, but before he could ask, Dustin leapt to his feet, pumping his fists in the air. “Eureka!” he laughed. “Sorry, couldn’t help it. It’s traditional.”

“You have it?” Mike asked, getting to his feet.

“As good as it’s going to get,” said Dustin. “Are you ready, Will?”

Will grinned wickedly. “Let’s show this space fungus how we do it on the  _ Hawkins _ .”

- - -

“...no new growths within the last two hours,” El said, wrapping up her report. “All existing growths are completely gone. I had thought that the rate at which this stuff grows was startling, until I saw the rate at which Lieutenant Henderson’s compound kills it… what did you  _ make _ , Dustin?”

“When I make fungicide,” Dustin said, grinning, “I  _ make fungicide _ .”

“That’s for sure,” El said, turning back to the rest of the table. “At any rate, obviously the existence of dormant spores or growths too small to detect is a potential problem. However, in concert with Commander Byers, I’ve managed to set up an automatic defense system. The  _ Hawkins _ ’ computer will automatically detect any new growths and electrify the relevant portion of the hull, which should halt them long enough for us to go in and exterminate them as well.”

“That’s excellent to hear.” Mike leaned back in his chair, looking supremely relieved. “Good work, everybody. This situation was potentially catastrophic, but we pulled together and got it fixed with a minimum of damage. I couldn’t ask for a better crew, and I’m grateful.”

“Don’t go getting sappy on us, captain,” Max said.

“Oh, you haven’t  _ seen _ me get sappy yet,” Mike said with a wry expression. It only lasted for a moment, though, and when he leaned forward again his face was deadly serious. “This… brings me to the other matter that I wanted to discuss.”

“Other matter?” asked Lucas.

Mike nodded. “It has been… impressed upon me, shall we say, that I have been concealing information from my senior staff. Important, even critical information. Information regarding the circumstances surrounding Ambassador Mawhrin’s assassination a couple of weeks ago.”

Everybody at the table looked at each other uneasily, with the exception of El, who was gazing directly at Mike with a firm but encouraging look. “Hey, Mike,” Will said. “Look, I know that we gave you a hard time about it, but… if this is something that’s classified…”

“This isn’t classified.” Mike shook his head. “This is--I don’t even know what this is. This is way outside the context of any Starfleet procedure or protocol.”

There was a light cough from the other side of the room, drawing everybody’s attention to where Doctor Ouvens had planted himself, lurking beside the ready room door. “I feel it bears mentioning,” he said, “that when I first discussed this matter with the captain, his first impulse  _ was _ to tell all of you about it. I was the one who persuaded him otherwise, because I thought it would be a bad idea.” A sardonic half-smile grew on his face. “In point of fact, I  _ still _ think it’s a bad idea… but I know better than to argue with the captain when he’s made up his mind.”

Lucas looked back at Mike. “Mike, stop keeping us in suspense. What is this?”

So Mike told them. It was an oddly short tale for the amount of gravity of what he was saying--the existence of a clandestine black ops organization in the heart of the Federation, their infiltration of the  _ Hawkins _ for the purposes of assassinating the ambassador, Mike and Ouvens’ hunt for the infiltrator, and the data that had been stolen and transmitted back to Section 31. By the time he finished, the others were sitting in stunned silence, their expressions betraying a disbelief that Mike could remember all too well.

“Mike,” Lucas said at last, breaking the silence. “Am I understanding correctly… that you were going to try and deal with all this shit  _ alone _ ?”

Mike glanced down the table at El. “Well, not  _ alone _ …”

Will folded his hands on the table in front of him. “Permission to speak freely?”

Of course. “Yes,” Mike sighed. “Blanket permission granted to everybody in this room for the remainder of this meeting.”

“You absolute  _ idiot _ ,” Will said.

“You  _ numskull _ ,” Dustin said.

“You are just the most stubborn, hardheaded…” Max said.

“Just the most unbelievably stupid…” Lucas added.

“...complete and total  _ idiot _ ,” Will finished.

“Okay, yes, thank you for that feedback,” Mike said, grimacing. “I’m sorry, everybody, I really am. In a sane world, I would’ve gone to you all right away… but the world hasn’t really felt sane to me since that incident. It feels like everything’s been turned upside-down.”

“Can’t blame you for that,” Dustin mumbled.

“Okay.” Max let out a loud huff of breath, placing her hands down on the surface of the table. “Okay. So obviously, our security needs to step up its game quite a bit here. I can start screening new transfers in-depth before they come aboard.” She looked over to where Doctor Ouvens was standing. “If Doctor Ouvens can tell me what I should be looking for, we might stand a chance of catching any future infiltrators before they can do anything serious.”

Doctor Ouvens raised an intrigued eyebrow.

“I know a few people in Starfleet Intelligence,” Lucas said. “I can put out feelers on the down-low, see if I can get my hands on some of the weirder unsolved case files. We might be able to find leads on Section 31 activity that way, if we’re lucky.”

“This compound you mentioned, the one the assassin used to kill the ambassador?” Dustin said. “Doctor Ouvens knows its chemical structure, right? We might be able to come up with some kind of antidote or counteragent to it, or something like that.”

Mike looked around the table, suddenly finding himself at a loss for words. “You guys…”

Will gave him a lopsided grin. “Ship-eating fungus or Section 31, they’re all problems to be solved. This is what we do, Mike. We’re your crew.”

“Yeah, you are, aren’t you?” Mike shook his head. “I guess forgetting that makes me a bad captain.”

“We’ll just casually forget to mention it on your next performance assessment,” Lucas said.

Mike laughed. “Okay, okay. That’s everything that I needed to tell you. Dismissed, and… I’ll see you all in the canteen.”

They all filed out the door, murmuring among themselves--thoughtful, Mike thought, but optimistic. It made him feel better about the future too. El was the last one out, and she lingered in the doorway for a moment after the others had departed.

“Is something wrong, El?”

“Oh… oh no,” she said, turning back to him. “I just… have something on my mind, that’s all.”

“Well, if you need to talk about it...”

“Thank you, Mike.” She smiled at him, with a deep, radiant happiness that gave him an odd feeling in his chest which he couldn’t quite account for. “I don’t think I’m ready for that, not quite yet. Once I am, though, you’ll be the first to know about it. I promise.”

With that, she departed, leaving Mike to sit alone and wonder what the hell she meant by that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello to all my awesome readers! Couple of things I want to say here. First, I've set up a Tumblr sideblog for all of my fic writing--I'll be posting links to all of my updates, and my askbox is open if you want to chat. Come by that-guy-writes.tumblr.com to say hi!
> 
> Second, I've managed to surprise myself by sticking consistently to a strict once-a-week update schedule for twelve and a half weeks now. The flip side of that is that I've been doing a *lot* of writing by the seat of my pants; you may have noticed me retconning details in on the fly here and there. Now that I've settled on a final chapter count of 26 (like a TV season, geddit), this chapter officially marks the halfway point, and I think I'm going to have to change up my approach. A lot of plotlines have been set in motion, and I need to make sure I can see them all through to a resolution by the end of this fic.
> 
> With that in mind, I'm going to pause and take a "mid-season break" for the next 2-3 weeks. I've already begun outlining the remaining 13 chapters, so I'll take the time to get that finished as well as to refresh and reorient myself a little bit so I can dive into the latter half of Stranger Trek with a plan and hopefully deliver the best work that I'm capable of doing. (I'm also probably going to drop at least one update on my other ongoing WIP, The Other Thing, in that timeframe, so keep an eye on that!)
> 
> For everybody who's reading this fic, thank you all. Your kudos and comments and general awesomeness have kept me going on this project in a way that I've never managed before. Feel free to drop me a line in the meantime--I *love* to talk shop--and I'll see you all soon!


	14. Cultural Outreach

“ _ First officer’s log: The Federation has formally made contact with a newly warp-capable species in the Hawke system. While Captain Wheeler and the main ship tend to other business in the area, I’ve been selected to take a small delegation on a diplomatic mission to the Lisamphian homeworld, in order to welcome them into the broader interstellar community.” _

“I’m at a bit of a loss, that’s all,” Kali said. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“It’s fairly straightforward,” El said. “Obviously, feeding and other biological needs aren’t an issue, so all you have to do is make sure you’re providing it with enrichment on a regular basis. I’ve filled the ‘doghouse’ with bits and baubles that Athaclena can play around with on its own, but you’ll be wanting to interact directly at least a couple of times a day. I’ve programmed some ‘toys’ for that purpose as well.”

“Oh, I remember this one,” Kali said. “This was the ‘ball’ program you used to lure it around the ship, right?”

“A bit refined since then, but yes,” El replied, smiling. “Do you want to try ‘throwing’ it?”

“Sure, why not.” Kali tapped at the terminal’s controls. “...and there it goes chasing after it. Wow, it’s actually really adorable, in a weird digital kind of way.”

“I certainly think so.” El crossed from the terminal over to her bed, where a small away bag was sitting open. She gently slid the last few things she’d been packing inside before closing it up, sighing as she rested her hands on top of it. “It’s going to be my first time being away for any significant length of time since adopting Atheclena. I have to admit, I’m a little nervous about it.”

“Nervous about Athaclena getting lonely, or nervous that it’s going to start tearing up the ship again?” Kali’s grin indicated that she was teasing, drawing a laugh from El in response. “Anyway, it was inevitable that you were going to get dragged away like this sooner or later, so it’s not as if you can help it.”

“I’m not getting ‘dragged’ anywhere,” El said. “I actually volunteered for this mission.”

Kali’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? I thought it was just taken as read that these diplomatic missions are all hopelessly dry.”

El’s mouth quirked in a quickly suppressed smile. “Among some people, perhaps. For my part, I’ve got a strong personal interest in encountering and learning about other cultures.” She shrugged. “And I think it’ll do me some good to get away from the ship for a little while.”

“Oh, I see.” Kali’s expression took on an infuriatingly knowing quality. “And would that have anything to do with the captain, by any chance…?”

“Oh, for…” El rubbed wearily at her eyes. “Has  _ everybody _ on the ship noticed?”

“Only the ones who were paying attention.” Kali grinned, but it quickly faded into a more sympathetic look, and she crossed over to sit on the foot of the bed. She patted the spot behind her to indicate that El should sit as well, which she did. “Have you been having problems with him?”

“What, Mike? No, he’s the same wonderful person he’s been for as long as I’ve known him.” El heaved out a heavy sigh. “The problems are coming from me. I just… need some room to think, to consider what exactly I’m willing to risk.”

“Commander Mayfield said that when she and Commander Sinclair—”

“I’m  _ well _ aware of the advice I gave them; Max has accused me of being a hypocrite on no less than three separate occasions.” El snorted. “Fine, so I’m a hypocrite. Court-martial me for it.”

Kali nudged her arm lightly with her elbow. “You know, if you told the captain how you felt about him… I’m pretty sure that he’d realize he feels the same way about you.”

“Yes… I’m pretty sure that you’re right.” El sighed again. “That’s what scares me.”

- - -

“Now entering the Hawke system,” El announced. “Dropping down to impulse.” Their shuttle shivered slightly as it made the transition from warp.

“Not a moment too soon, if you ask me,” Lucas groaned, raising his arms up in a gigantic stretch. He was occupying the second of the two seats at the shuttle’s control console; he and El had been switching off ‘piloting duty’ (which actually meant just watching the console to make sure nothing went horribly wrong) for the last few hours. “Do we have a visual on our destination?”

“Punching it up now,” El said. The shuttle’s viewscreen flickered to display the image of a planet, its surface a mottled turquoise blue that almost made it look like a jewel.

“Wow,” remarked Dustin from the passenger seat behind them. “That’s a good-lookin’ planet.”

“Is there a name for it?” Lucas asked. “Calling it ‘the Lisamphian homeworld’ seems like a bit of a mouthful.”

“Let’s see…” El pored over a report on the console, and grimaced. “Argh. The translator keeps rendering their word as ‘earth’ or ‘the world’ because it occupies the same kind of reflexive place in their language as your planet does in yours. I’m going to have to figure out how to patch that…”

“Guess it’s ‘Lisamphian homeworld’ for at least a little while longer, then,” Dustin said. “So that’s all water that we’re looking at there, right?”

“Mostly,” El said, glancing up. “The planet’s surface is nearly 90% liquid water, and what little solid land exists is broken up and scattered all over the place--not really anything you could honestly call ‘continents’. Which would explain why the Lisamphians never fully made the transition to living on dry land.”

“As though that’s a phase that exists in a universal sequence that all life-forms go through,” Dustin muttered, half to himself. “They have an environmental niche, they adapted to it, same as any species.”

El leveled a glare at him over her shoulder. “I  _ know _ that, Lieutenant. It was a turn of phrase, that’s all.”

“Right, right, sorry,” Dustin said quickly, holding up his hands. “It’s just a pet peeve of mine, is all, but I wasn’t--sorry.” Lucas was grinning; El had observed that he tended to take a great deal of amusement in seeing Dustin stick his foot in his mouth.

The shuttle’s console beeped with an incoming transmission, which El quickly punched up. “The Lisamphians are hailing us, commander. Would you like me to open a channel?”

“Please,” Lucas said. El slid a finger over one of the shuttle’s controls and nodded at him. “This is Commander Lucas Sinclair, representing the United Federation of Planets,” he continued, enunciating the words with gravity. “Whom do I have the honor of addressing?”

The shuttle’s viewscreen flickered, calling up an image of the person who had been hailing them. The Lisamphian had a broad, noseless face with mottled grey-green skin and a long gash of a mouth under dark, unblinking eyes. Well, not  _ unblinking _ \--as El watched, a translucent membrane slid up and over them, then retracted, folding back down into the eye sockets.  _ A nervous tic? _ she wondered idly to herself. Too early to say.

“The honor is mine,” the Lisamphian replied. “I am First Envoy Goerm, and I speak on behalf of the Global Collective. We happily welcome our guests from the United Federation of Planets.”

“Happy to be here, First Envoy,” Lucas replied, grinning. El made a mental note to talk to him about that at an opportune moment--baring one’s teeth was the sort of thing that could be misinterpreted as aggressive by species with different expressive signaling. It was unlikely to be a problem with the Lisamphians, though, based on what she’d learned about them in the briefing materials. “We’re still about three hours out, give or take--where do you want us to land?”

“Transmitting coordinates,” Goerm said. “My apologies, it is some distance away from your final destination--our cities were not designed with incoming spacecraft in mind.”

“Of course.” Lucas nodded. “Not a problem, First Envoy. We’ve been cooped up in here for a while anyway, so we’ll appreciate the chance to stretch our legs a bit.”

Goerm’s head bobbled from side to side. Agreement? Amusement? Learning to read Lisamphian body language was going to be an uphill climb. “We look forward to your arrival, then. Please do not hesitate to contact us if you have any other needs. First Envoy Goerm out.” The viewscreen flickered back to the view of the planet.

“Well, what a nice young… uh, Lisamphian,” Dustin said. He turned to El. “Do we know how their culture figures gender?”

“They don’t,” El replied. “They’re sexually monomorphic, and gender isn’t something that ever occurred to them as a concept. I just use singular ‘they’ for pronouns, personally, but the translator’s going to render whatever pronouns you use into theirs anyway.”

“Do they just have one set, then?”

“They used to have a series of hierarchy-based pronouns, but that’s fallen out of vogue as they’ve attempted to reform their society along more egalitarian lines.” El shrugged. “Which is one of the reasons that it seems like we might get along with them. Did… you not read the briefing materials, Lieutenant?”

Dustin’s face reddened. “I, um, meant to,” he mumbled. “But I got caught up in this paper on interdimensional quantum fluctuations, and then it was late and I figured it was a better idea to get decent sleep before, well…”

Lucas dropped his head back against his seat’s headrest with a soft  _ thump. _ “For  _ fuck’s _ sake, Dustin!”

“It was a good paper! And it was relevant to, you know, stuff that’s been going on…!”

El rolled her eyes and fished a datapad out of the bag by her seat. “Here,” she said, handing it off to Dustin. “You have three hours. Read. Ask me if you have any questions.”

Dustin accepted the datapad with an abashed murmur of thanks, and as El turned back to the console, she saw Lucas giving her a look that said  _ I’m glad  _ ** _someone_ ** _ here has their shit together. _

She paused to wink at him before busying herself with the navigation for their final approach to the planet.

Their course took them sweeping in towards the planet, through a few moments of reentry burn--El always liked the patterns the fire made against the viewscreen--and then they were in atmospheric flight, soaring over a vast sea, the same brilliant turquoise color that they had seen from space. Under the light of the local star, the water glistened brilliantly, and all three of them were momentarily enraptured by the sight.

After several minutes, the expanse was broken by an object on the horizon, which rapidly grew nearer and accordingly larger. Or rather, objects--it was an archipelago, a couple tens of kilometers long, covered almost entirely in structures that ran over the surface and down into the water around the edges of the islands.

“Are those submerged buildings?” Dustin had abandoned the datapad and was hovering in between El and Lucas’s seats, looking at the viewscreen with undisguised awe.

“Yep,” El said. “They’re an amphibious species, so it makes sense that their dwellings would straddle land and sea.”

“They must have some pretty clever material engineering solutions for waterproofing at this point,” Lucas added. “I should ask about that before we leave--we could stand to learn something from them.” 

The shuttle coasted to a halt and began descending on the indicated coordinates, which turned out to be a small open field lying on the edge of one of the islands. A knot of Lisamphians was on hand to greet them; they remained at a safe distance as the shuttle completed its descent.

The boarding ramp descended and the shuttle’s occupants spilled out, Lucas taking point with El and Dustin following close behind him. The Lisamphians approached as they disembarked, headed by one that El was pretty sure was the same one they had spoken to earlier. “Commander Sinclair,” they called in greeting.

“First Envoy Goerm,” Lucas replied, nodding. “Allow me to introduce my compatriots, Lieutenant El Hopper and Lieutenant Dustin Henderson.”

“Lieutenant Hopper, Lieutenant Henderson.” Goerm spread their hands out wide, presumably a polite or honorific gesture. “Welcome. You honor us with your presence.”

“It’s our pleasure, First Envoy,” El said. “Seeking out new life and new civilizations is part of the Starfleet charter, after all.”

“Starfleet…” Goerm murmured thoughtfully. “Yes, your government has told us a bit about your organization, though I must confess that I find myself unable to quite comprehend its role in your civilization.”

Lucas shrugged. “Split the difference between exploration, logistics, and peacekeeping and you more or less have it.”

Goerm’s face scrunched into an expression that El took to be curiosity--or possibly skepticism. “That seems like an odd arrangement.”

“Maybe, but it’s worked for us for the last couple of centuries.”

“I see.” El wasn’t convinced that Goerm  _ did _ see, but in any case they were too polite to say so--after all, they were a diplomat. “Well, I’m sure that you wish to rest and rejuvenate after your journey; I’ve arranged for transport into the city, so we can get you settled into your guest quarters.”

“Excellent.” Dustin grinned. “I’m looking forward to this.”

- - -

“All right,” Lucas said. “Here’s the neighborhood.” He inserted a memory stick--slightly modified to play nice with Lisamphian technology--into the holographic display in the center of the room. The display lit up with an image depicting a 90-degree arc, describing one quarter of a circle, which was filled in with a multitude of points, labels, and areas shaded in different colors. The gathered Lisamphians--Goerm forming a distinct focal point for the group--murmured amongst themselves as they examined the map.

“This is what we call the Alpha Quadrant of the galaxy,” El chimed in. “It’s the most explored and well-known part--from the Federation’s perspective, of course. Speaking of, this is the Federation here in blue.” She slid a finger over the display’s controls, and the blue area of the map pulsed softly.

“As the name implies, we’re a collective of semi-autonomous interstellar civilizations,” Dustin said. “At last count, I think we were up to… what, a hundred and fifty? More than that?”

“A lot,” supplied Lucas with a wry grin.

“A lot,” agreed Dustin. “Now, as far as the other players in the galactic scene go, the big ones are the Klingon Empire and the Romulan Star Empire--that’s the red and green ones there, though their territories extend into the neighboring Beta Quadrant. After them, the ones to be aware of are probably the Cardassian Union and the Breen Confederacy, though the Cardassians are a ways away from you and the Breen mostly keep to themselves.”

“What’s this?” One of the Lisamphians was pointing at a black line of empty space that separated the Federation and the Romulan Empire. “This… ah, ‘Neutral Zone’?”

Lucas, El, and Dustin all looked at each other. “It’s, ah, a buffer between our territories,” Lucas replied. “Let’s just say that while we’re officially at peace with the Romulans, it’s not exactly a  _ friendly _ peace.”

“So there is still war, even among those who have attained the stars,” mused Goerm.

El’s lips pulled into a dry, humorless smile. “Despite our best efforts to the contrary, yes.”

“A shame,” said Goerm. “Where on this map is our world?”

“Ah, one moment.” El punched a series of instructions into the display, and a pinpoint lit up on the map. “There’s your home system--that is to say, this star system. Obviously the resolution’s too low for individual planets to show up, but…” She trailed off. Goerm was staring intently at the map, and if she was applying what she’d picked up about Lisamphian body language correctly, they were troubled about something.

Lucas had apparently noticed it too. “Is something wrong, First Envoy?”

Goerm let out a deep  _ hrmph _ . “We’re in the middle of your territory.”

El’s eyes flicked over to the map. It was true, the highlight designating their system was surrounded by a sea of Federation blue. She hadn’t given it a second thought when bringing it up.

“Ah, well, you see,” Dustin said. “‘Territory’ is not quite the right word for what that represents. It’s probably better to think of it as, um, our  _ de facto _ sphere of influence…” He trailed off, seeing the look that Goerm was leveling at him. Even he could tell that they weren’t mollified by the distinction in the slightest.

“Apologies,” El put in, jumping into action. “If you’ll just give me a few minutes here…” She worked at the controls. After the few minutes she had asked for, the white highlight indicating their system flickered and turned orange. “There,” she said, zooming in. The display now showed a much larger image of the current system and a handful of nearby ones; their system was shaded in orange to distinguish it from the surrounding blue, and labeled with  **Lisamphiam Collective** in bold letters. “The name is only a placeholder, of course,” she said. “I’m assuming that your legislative body will want to officially decide on how you are to be known to the broader interstellar community, at which point we will promptly update the map.”

Goerm nodded, making a noise that El hoped was approval. “And the surrounding star systems?” they asked, pointing at the nearby stars that were still shaded in blue.

“As Lieutenant Henderson said, the map is better understood as our sphere of influence than as any sort of hard territorial claim,” Lucas said. “I’m not aware of any competing claims on those systems, so it should be fairly easy to work out the details with the Federation.”

“So we need to ask permission to leave our home system?” one of the other Lisamphians asked. Lucas stuttered for a response even as Goerm turned to shush the speaker, and El cringed slightly. It wasn’t an  _ invalid _ point by any means…

“We greatly appreciate the information that you have given us,” Goerm said, turning back to them. “It will certainly give our people a great deal to consider in the coming days. Now, I’m sure I’m not the only one feeling a bit tired at the moment, so perhaps it would be best to retire for the remainder of the day…”

- - -

“What the hell was all that about?” Dustin said. The Lisamphians had set them up in a suite, and though the three of them each had separate sleeping quarters, they were centered around a common area that El, Lucas, and Dustin were currently relaxing in. El and Lucas were, anyway--Dustin was pacing around the floor, agitated.

“Well, they just recently figured out how to travel beyond their star system,” Lucas said. He was standing in the kitchen area--the Lisamphians had yet to develop replicator technology, and he’d jumped at the chance to try cooking ‘the old-fashioned way’. El was both intrigued by and afraid of what the result would be. “Then we come in, hi, welcome to the neighborhood, by the way, here’s a laundry list of entities that could steamroll you without breaking a sweat. It probably made them a little bit jumpy, and that’s understandable.”

“Yeah, but that’s not  _ us, _ ” Dustin said, stopping his pacing to turn and face Lucas. “We’re not some… giant hegemon that’s going to come thundering in and take over their planet.”

Lucas awkwardly chopped another vegetable. “We kind of  _ are _ a hegemon, though.”

“What?!” Dustin turned to El with an expression of disbelief. “El, c’mon. Back me up here.”

Sitting on the couch, El took a sip of her tea, a local concoction with a briney yet surprisingly pleasant flavor. “You’re asking the wrong person, Dustin,” she replied. “I’m in agreement with Lucas here. The Federation occupies a hegemonic position in our quadrant, and I think it’s important that we recognize that.”

Dustin threw up his hands, making a frustrated noise. “And yet you two are in Starfleet? We’re not the bad guys here!”

“It’s not a matter of being good guys or bad guys,” Lucas said, squinting in concentration as he pulled together his dish--which looked suspiciously like it was just a mix of sliced terrestrial vegetables arranged atop a pile of green, leafy aquatic plants. “It’s a question of power. And despite our generally peaceful intentions, the Federation has  _ a lot  _ of power. Have you noticed how we managed to get the Cardassians, the Romulans, and the Klingons all to back off at one point or another in our history? I mean, the freaking  _ Klingons. _ ” 

He crossed over to the living area, handing off a plate of his food to El as he took a seat on the couch beside her. She experimentally took a bite and had to struggle not to pull a face. He’d splashed some sort of seasoning on it without quite understanding what it was, and the result was… not  _ awful, _ but distinctly  _ off. _ “Besides,” she said, “think about how we look from the outside. Perfectly happy and friendly… until you notice that we go around vacuuming up cultures and civilizations and adding them to our dominion. We don’t conquer, exactly, but we…  _ assimilate, _ I suppose.”

Lucas glanced at her, swallowing a mouthful of his own food. “I admit, I’d never really looked at it from that angle before,” he said.

She shrugged and allowed herself a wry smile. “Well, it’s something I picked up as a native member of a culture that has  _ no _ interest in joining the Federation.”

“The Tymbrimi don’t have any interest in interacting with  _ anyone, _ ” Dustin grumbled. El shot him a look, but it was out of pure annoyance; she couldn’t really contest the point. “So what exactly are we supposed to do, then? We can’t exactly  _ stop _ being the Federation. Cutting a hundred and fifty member worlds loose, never mind our provisional affiliates… that’d be a political nightmare.”

“All we really can do is tread as lightly as we can,” Lucas said, gesturing vaguely with his eating utensil. “It’s why we have so many rules and policies for noninterference, why we only go where we’re invited and do only what we’re asked to do when we’re there.”

“Why we don’t even  _ talk _ to nascent civilizations until they’ve developed warp travel, when there’s a pretty good chance of them discovering us for themselves anyway,” El added. “The power differential there is so great that our mere presence makes it difficult for them to self-determine.”

Dustin made a thoughtful noise in his throat, staring blankly at a spot in the room that didn’t contain anything particularly interesting. “I’m tired,” he said abruptly. “I’m going to go lie down for a bit.” His intentions thus announced, he turned and walked into the sleeping quarters that he’d claimed.

El looked over at Lucas, brow furrowing in concern. “Is he…?”

“He’ll be fine,” Lucas said through another mouthful. “He just needs some time to stew and process our conversation. It’s the way he’s always been, the way his brain absorbs new ideas.”

“And once he’s processed?”

“He’ll come to his own conclusions, the same way I suspect that you and I don’t see perfectly eye-to-eye on the issue even though we sided together. And really, that’s why I think the Federation is worth serving, warts and all--because it’s the sort of society that not only tolerates a multitude of viewpoints, but celebrates them.” He picked up another wad of vegetabled leaves with his utensil. “I think I did pretty good with this, don’t you?”

“I’d rather not have to lie to my superior officer,” El deadpanned.

Lucas laughed even as he cringed. “Ouch, okay. Speaking of.”

- - -

The room they were in was fully submerged, meaning that El, Lucas, and Dustin were wearing underwater suits that Lucas had packed along with their belongings. (“It makes sense when you’re visiting an amphibious species on a water planet,” he’d said, quite correctly.) Lisamphians were flitting around them, clothing flowing elegantly in the water. Was it designed to do that deliberately, as a fashion thing? El made a mental note to ask before she headed out.

Goerm swam over to them. “We are pleased to have you here tonight,” they said, speaking one of the Lisamphian dialects for talking underwater--which was fortunately as easily translatable as their air dialects. “We had hoped to share this with you before you departed. I hope you are not too uncomfortable?”

“We’ll manage,” Lucas replied, his suit’s external speakers working to compensate for the fact that, again, they were speaking in water. “Getting to have this experience will be well worth a couple of hours cooped up inside a suit, I’m sure.”

“Excellent,” Goerm replied. “You won’t have long to wait--the ceremony will begin soon.”

“Ceremony?” Dustin asked on their suits’ closed comm.

“Not sure,” Lucas replied. “I gather it’s some sort of performance, but I’m not clear on the significance.”

“It’s devotional, I think,” El said.

“Ah,” Dustin said, and there was a condescending tone to it that made El grit her teeth in irritation. One of her least favorite features of Federation culture was that it had certain  _ attitudes _ about religious practice.

The ambient lighting filtering through the room dimmed, leaving a spherical section in the center lit. Slowly, a cluster of Lisamphians dressed in costumes designed to flow even more voluminously and elegantly than normal streamed in, swimming in precise patterns as a low bass drone reverberated--vocal, by El’s best guess, though it was possible that they’d designed some sort of instrument to replicate the sound.

“Huh,” commented Lucas, sounding slightly intrigued but mostly bemused.

El watched the swimmers as their patterns became ever more intricate, turning and interweaving with impossible grace. The drone filled her awareness, and she found herself sucking in a deep breath. She wasn’t sure what, precisely, this ceremony represented to the Lisamphians, but there was  _ something _ to it. It was somehow… ecstatic and contemplative all at the same time, and she felt an expansive feeling fill her, familiar and yet not quite. It was an attitude of veneration, even though she didn’t know quite what was being venerated. A deity? An idea? The world and universe around them?

Maybe it didn’t matter.

The swimmers slowly wound down to a stop as the drone died down and then faded away entirely. The assembled Lisamphians began to croak solemnly in a disorganized cacophony; apparently taking it for applause, Lucas and Dustin began to awkwardly clap their hands as best they could in the water.

El felt something wet on her face and gasped. Was her helmet leaking?  _ Shit. _ In a flurry of motion, she launched herself upwards, angling her body and swimming for the room’s entrance. She heard Lucas call her name in her ear, but she didn’t respond, focusing on moving as quickly as she could in the direction of dry land.

Bursting out of the water where it met the building’s non-submerged portion, El hauled herself up to the ground and fumbled at her helmet’s clasps, yanking it off and examining it to see how much water had leaked in. To her shock, it was entirely dry--the seals were intact as far as she could tell. Bewildered, she felt at the wetness on her face. Tears. She’d started to cry without realizing it.

A shape slipped deftly out of the water to come up next to her on the land, and when it spoke it was with Goerm’s voice. “Are you well, Lieutenant Hopper?”

“I am, thank you,” El said with a voice that was unexpectedly ragged.

Goerm leaned in closer to examine her face, membranes slipping over their large, dark eyes and back again. “Your eyes are leaking water,” they said. “That is a sign of distress for your species, is it not?”

El laughed. “Sometimes,” she said. “Not right now, though. I’m just… emotional.”

“I see,” Goerm said, bobbling their head. “Interesting. I had hoped that you would enjoy attending the ceremony, but I was not expecting that it would affect you to this extent.”

“I’m a little bit more… sensitive, shall we say, than my compatriots,” El explained, lightly tapping her temple to make the point.

Goerm’s face scrunched thoughtfully. “You are not human like them?”

“Half,” El said. “My other half is… well. You wouldn’t have heard of them, anyway. But I think your people have a few things in common with them.”

“I see,” Goerm said again, this time accompanying it with a thoughtful rumble. “In any case, my apologies—”

“--are not necessary,” El interjected. “The experience was a bit overwhelming, but it was good, and I am grateful for the opportunity. You’ve been kind and hospitable, First Envoy, and it’s been a pleasure to meet you. All of you.”

“As it has been a pleasure to have you,” Goerm agreed. “While we might have our differences, I am optimistic that an understanding can be reached between our people and your Federation.”

“I am too,” El said, smiling slightly.

- - -

Max and Mike were waiting for them in the  _ Hawkins _ shuttle bay, walking up as El, Lucas, and Dustin disembarked. “Welcome back,” Mike said, with a soft smile at El that made her heart flutter just the tiniest bit, even though she’d been steeling herself to see him again for the past hour.

“Good to be back,” Lucas replied cheerfully. “On the whole, I think it was a fairly successful mission. The Lisamphians are friendly, and excellent hosts to boot.”

“Good to hear it,” Mike said. “Maybe we’ll welcome them into the fold someday.”

El, Lucas, and Dustin traded a look between them. “It’s… probably a little bit early to be thinking about that,” Dustin said.

Mike raised an eyebrow, but any chance to voice the unspoken question was interrupted by Max sidling up to Lucas and slipping an arm around his waist. “Captain,” she said with affected innocence. “I want it noted that I am being  _ very  _ good, and  _ not _ dragging Lucas away before you can debrief him.”

Mike huffed out a quiet laugh. “You know, I  _ can _ always debrief him later…”

Max looked slyly at Lucas, who looked slyly back at her, and then they were off, Max leading Lucas by the arm across the bay’s floor and out the door.

“Well, I’d better give that a couple of hours at least,” Mike said, half to himself, making El giggle slightly.

Dustin hoisted his bag over his shoulder. “Welp, I should be going too,” he said. “Gotta go make sure that Harrington and Buckley haven’t managed to blow up the lab in my absence.”

“I’m pretty sure that your absence makes explosions  _ less _ likely, Dustin,” Mike deadpanned.

“Oh, ha ha,” grumbled Dustin, but the annoyance dropped away in an instant as he turned back to El and gave her a knowing wink before heading off the same way that Max and Lucas had gone.

Meddler.

“Well,” Mike said, turning back to El. “I’m sure you’re ready to get some rest after your trip, but would you like some company on the way back to your quarters?”

El was taken aback at how very much she  _ did _ want Mike’s company on the way back to her quarters. And maybe in her quarters for a little while after that. Actually, thinking about it, spending the entire evening with him sounded incredibly appealing—

Now that she was paying attention to her feelings, she wondered how the  _ hell _ she’d ever managed to overlook them in the first place.

“El?” Mike’s voice had become concerned, and with a start, she realized that she’d just been standing there staring at him without answering his question.

“Sorry. Um. Yes, I would like that very much,” she said, stumbling over the words slightly in her rush to get them out.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “If I’d be intruding…”

“ _ Mike, _ ” she said, her exasperation aimed more at herself than at him. “I’ll tell you when and if you’re intruding. Come on.”

He fell in beside her as she strode out of the shuttle bay and into the hallway. They were silent as they walked, and it wasn’t one of the warm, comfortable silences that they sometimes shared--it was tense and awkward, and El mentally kicked herself for letting her emotions get the better of her.

“This is still something you don’t want to talk about,” Mike said at length. It wasn’t a question.

“Yes,” El agreed.

“If I’ve done something—”

El stopped so suddenly that Mike continued a few steps down the hallway before he realized what had happened. “Mike,” El said urgently. “You have done  _ nothing _ that you need to apologize for, you have been  _ nothing  _ to me but an excellent commanding officer and a wonderful friend. This… this thing, it’s entirely me, and it’s just something that I don’t want to burden you with right now.”

His face went soft, and a small, kind smile played across his lips. “If that is what you want, then I will of course respect it,” he said quietly. “But El--I am your captain, and that means that it’s my job to carry burdens for you. So if you ever reconsider…”

Good grief, she could just throw him against the wall right now and start kissing-- _ no no no,  _ ** _bad_ ** _ El, stop that! _ “I appreciate that more than I can say, Mike,” El replied in a carefully controlled tone, smiling back at him. “Right now, though, I think I just want to get back to my quarters.”

“By all means,” he said, falling back into step beside her as she began to walk again.

The silence between them on the way to her quarters was comfortable once again. And when they got there, and she asked if he had time to stay for a little while, and he said yes, that was comfortable too. And when they did indeed end up spending most of the evening in light, friendly conversation together, it was every bit as enjoyable as she’d hoped it would be.

Sooner or later, she was going to have to figure all of this out. But for now, this was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate episode titles: "Dustin Repeatedly Inserts Foot In Mouth" or "Gene Roddenberry Can Eat Me"
> 
> And we're back! My plan for the moment is to switch off updating Stranger Trek and The Other Thing every week, so this'll be updating biweekly until I get the final three chapters of The Other Thing written, and then I'll go back to updating Stranger Trek weekly as much as I can. Thanks to everyone who's been along for the ride, and don't worry--this is only the beginning of the second half!


	15. Double Act

“I don’t really see why we needed to show up in person for that,” Lucas said as their shuttle dropped out of warp. “Our presence wasn’t really necessary.”

Mike looked sideways at him, lips pursing to fight off an amused smile. “It was a ceremony, Lucas,” he said. “Strictly speaking,  _ no  _ part of it was really necessary. But we perform them all the same, because we as a species feel a need to mark special occasions.”

“No reason to pull us away from the  _ Hawkins _ for over a full day,” grumbled Lucas. “Can’t we just take after the Vulcans on this one? ‘It is noted that you have attained the rank of Captain. We acknowledge that this achievement took a great deal of hard work on your part. Continue about your business.’ Boom, done.”

Mike ducked his head to hide a grin that quickly turned into a frown. “Do the readings for this system look off to you?”

“Oh, yeah, it’s unstable in just about every imaginable way,” Lucas said. “One of the reasons that Starfleet’s interested in having us survey it.”

“Ah,” Mike replied, settling back into his chair. “Well, I can tell you that when  _ I _ got made Captain, having them pull in everybody who could reasonably make it to the ceremony made me feel all special and valued. I’m happy to do the same for our newest crop of captains.”

“So it’s about the psychological benefits.” Lucas grinned at him. “Then you’re telling me that all these ceremonies we have to deal with are actually an intricate Starfleet social engineering project?”

Mike grinned back. “Well, you’re not supposed to find out about that until--” The control panel chirped urgently, interrupting him, and he turned to glance at it. “What--?”

The entire shuttle rattled, and Mike was pitched forward, only barely managing to catch himself so that he didn’t smack his head on the console. Warning sounds were now blaring all around him, and the lights in the cabin flickered, going out for several seconds before coming back on.

Lucas was half out of his chair, clinging to the back to keep from falling. “What the hell--?!” he managed to get out before the next impact shook the shuttle again.

This time Mike didn’t manage to catch himself, and he was thrown from his seat, his shoulder plowing into the ground with a force that was almost certainly going to leave a bruise. The warning sounds all cut out at once, and when he opened his eyes, the bright lights of the shuttle’s interior illumination had been replaced with a dull, faded red. They were on emergency power.

“What just happened?” he groaned, pulling himself back up into his seat.

Lucas was poring over readings on the console. “Remember how I mentioned this system was unstable?” he said. “We just got hit by a solar flare, a big one. We could’ve rode it out if we’d had our shields up, but I didn’t think of it, I was so sure we were a safe distance--”

“I didn’t think of it either,” Mike said, cutting him off. “It doesn’t matter. The question is, what’s our situation right now?”

“Bad,” Lucas said. “We’ve got enough impulse to limp--barely--but it’ll take us a few hours to rendezvous with the  _ Hawkins _ , and I don’t think our life support is going to hold out that long. I’m going to have to nudge us in for a landing on the nearest habitable planet.”

Mike pulled up the sensor data as Lucas piloted, and sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Lucas--”

“Not now, Mike.”

“Every last inch of that planet’s  _ covered  _ in storms!”

“Yeah, well, it’s kind of our only option at the moment if you’re a fan of breathable air,” Lucas snapped. He reached behind him and pulled out his seat’s restraint harness. “Now buckle in. This is going to be a rough descent.”

Mike complied, harnessing himself in his own seat’s restraint harness. Much as he disliked it, he couldn’t fault Lucas’s reasoning. “All right, Mr. Sinclair,” he said. “Show me your best crash landing.” Lucas laughed dryly. 

The planet loomed large in their viewscreen, blanketed in swirling gray clouds lit periodically by flashes of lightning. Mike swallowed hard. There was no point in being afraid. Whatever the risks, this course of action represented the statistically best chance of survival for them.

If only that made it easier to not be afraid.

The shuttle rattled as it hit the atmosphere, and they were swallowed up by the boiling gray mass. A deep, reverberating groan rang through the shuttle’s structure, raising the hairs on Mike’s neck. “Structural integrity field?” Lucas asked, clearly thinking along the same lines.

Mike glanced down at the readout. “Holding,” he replied, though the numbers were significantly below what they should’ve been. Still, it looked like they weren’t about to shear apart mid-flight. Probably. Another gale from the swirling storms around them buffeted the shuttle. “We’re going a bit faster than we should be.”

“Yep,” Lucas agreed through gritted teeth. “You see any ground that looks particularly soft?”

“To use a technical term, I can’t see shit.”

“Fair enough. Hang on, I’m pulling up.” Inertial forces shifted, pressing Mike back into his seat. “...and brace for impact!”

Mike braced. For just a moment, the clouds broke, and he could see the rocky surface of the planet, which was approaching with startling speed--

And then a final, massive impact threw the world into chaos, and everything went dark.

- - -

“All right, then.” Instructor Xyris turned to face the class filling up the lecture hall. “The fundamental foundation to understanding faster-than-light travel is the warp scale. Can anybody explain it to me?”

Mike’s hand shot immediately into the air, drawing a few amused snorts from the cadets sitting around him. He was aware that he’d already gotten a reputation as something of a teacher’s pet in his first few weeks at Starfleet Academy, but he didn’t care. As far as he was concerned, he was living the dream, and he was going to live it for all it was worth. “The warp scale is a geometric scale describing velocities in multiples of  _ c _ , or the speed of light,” he answered. “For simplicity, it’s reduced down to ‘warp factors’ running from 1 to--well, it caps at 10, but since warp factor 10 is actually impossible, it’d be more appropriate to say that it  _ approaches _ 10 asymptotically.”

Xyris lifted an eyebrow in an expression that Mike had learned meant that he was about to be corrected, but before the instructor could say anything, a light but distinct cough came from behind Mike.

Lifting their other eyebrow to match the first one, Xyris nodded. “You have something to add, Cadet Sinclair?”

“Right, uh, sorry.” Mike turned around in his seat to face the speaker, a young, dark-skinned human man sitting two rows behind him. The young man’s gaze flickered briefly to Mike before returning to Xyris. “It’s just that he said that Warp 10 is ‘impossible’. Warp 10 represents infinite speed, which is  _ theoretically _ possible--just currently unobtainable. Also probably inadvisable, since you’d be passing through every point in the universe simultaneously.”

Xyris nodded. “That is correct, Sinclair, though as you note, highly theoretical. Now…”

As class ended, Mike packed up his belongings in a hurry and rushed to the door, stopping just outside to watch the rest of his class file out. Sure enough, he’d managed to get out ahead of Sinclair. “Hey,” he said, stepping forward as the other man exited.

At the sight of him, Sinclair’s face broke into a grin that was somehow both apologetic and cocky. “Hey yourself,” he replied. “Sorry about that, I didn’t mean to show you up.”

“Please,” Mike said, waving the apology away. “Why would I even be here if I didn’t still have stuff to learn? If anything, I was impressed.”

“Aw, well.” Sinclair touched his hand to the back of his neck, embarrassed by the praise. “It’s no big deal. I just like this kind of stuff, so I do a little more studying than I’m strictly required to, you know?”

“I got that impression.” In fact, that was why Mike had decided to approach him in the first place. “Me and my friend Will are actually kind of the same way, and it’s kind of hard to find people who are interested in talking shop outside of class--I was wondering, did you want to hang out with us sometime? I’m sure he’d love to meet you.”

“Oh.” Sinclair blinked in surprise, but he looked pleased. “Yeah, that… actually sounds really good.”

“Cool.” Mike extended his hand. “It was Sinclair, right? I’m Mike, Mike Wheeler.”

Sinclair accepted the offered hand, shaking it with easy enthusiasm. “Lucas Sinclair. Just Lucas is fine. It’s nice to meet you, Mike.”

- - -

“Mike!  _ Mike! _ ”

Consciousness slowly returned to Mike, and he found himself wishing it hadn’t. His body was sore all over, most notably his shoulder, where he’d hit the floor earlier, and his torso, where his restraint harness had dug into him. Moreover, his head was throbbing with a dull ache that was making it hard to think clearly. “Lucas…?” he groaned.

“Afraid so,” Lucas said, his tone sounding relieved underneath the crack. “Hold still a minute.” The sound of a beeping tricorder filled the cabin, interacting poorly with Mike’s headache.

Finally managing to peel his eyes open, Mike aimed an insolent grin up at Lucas. “How do I look, Doctor Sinclair?”

Lucas gave him a dirty look over the top of the tricorder. “Intact, and in good enough shape to move,” he said, snapping the instrument shut and stowing it at his waist. “Which is good, because we  _ do _ need to move.”

The grin vanished from Mike’s face. “I take it we have a problem?”

Lucas’s lips quirked in frustration. “The impact cracked the reactor casing.”

The statement perked Mike up to full alertness, and he began extracting himself from the restraint harness. “That  _ is _ a problem. How bad’s the leak?”

“Not critical,” Lucas replied. “We’re okay for the moment. But if we’re stuck here for, say, several hours, we’re going to start noticing some unpleasant health effects.”

“You think it’s going to take the  _ Hawkins _ a while to find us, then,” Mike said as he pulled himself free.

“You saw what those storms were like on the way down. I’m not going to bet on them being able to pick up our beacon from orbit.”

“That’s a fair assessment.” Mike levered himself up to his feet, allowing himself a moment to absorb his body’s protest of the action before pushing it aside. “All right. Let’s get gathered up and get out of here, then.”

They worked swiftly and in concert, sweeping up what they needed into emergency carrying bags. Into Mike’s bag went the shuttle’s full stock of rations and medical equipment, as well as a handful of miscellaneous survival tools. In Lucas’s, they placed the shuttle’s beacon, which had been designed as detachable for situations exactly such as this. Finally, they each donned wet weather gear--essentially just clear hooded ponchos that went on over their uniforms--before hauling their bags onto their backs.

The shuttle’s emergency exit hatch swung open, revealing a darkened, rocky landscape lashed by sheets of falling rain.  _ Do we really have to do this? _ a small, tired corner of Mike’s mind asked. He pushed it aside. They did, and it wouldn’t do for a captain to complain about it in front of his first officer. Even if it was Lucas.

Rain washed over them as they trekked away from the wrecked shuttle, so hard that it was more like being hit by ocean waves at times. Ahead, Mike saw Lucas stop and gesture; looking closer, he realized that Lucas was pointing at the indistinct outline of what appeared to be a small mountain in the distance. A good call. He nodded his agreement.

The circumstances were not good for keeping track of time, to put it mildly, but by Mike’s estimate it took them a couple of hours to hike to the foot of the mountain.  _ Left foot. Now right foot. Now left foot again. Don’t focus on the fatigue, don’t focus on the pain, don’t start wishing it could all be over. Focus on putting one foot in front of the other. Left. Right. Left.  _ It was a mental discipline that Mike had developed during the more grueling parts of his academy days, and it had served him well in the years since. He didn’t know if Lucas had a similar way of dealing with things, but however he did it, he too kept up their pace without complaining or visibly tiring.

At length, tracing around the foot of the mountain, they found what they had been searching for--a cavern, going deep enough in that they could get out of the rain entirely. Stepping inside, by unspoken mutual agreement they both pulled their phasers and went as far back into the cavern as they could, shining their flashlights until they were certain they’d looked over every inch. They’d heard too many lurid stories of stranded Starfleet officers sheltering in caverns like this only to be attacked by some nasty cave-dwelling organism. Possibly fanciful, but there was no reason to take the risk.

Only when their inspection was complete did Mike let out a breath and allow his body to relax a bit. “Alright,” he said, giving Lucas a tired smile.

Lucas returned a smile that was a mirror of his. “Alright,” he agreed.

- - -

“You invited  _ who _ to join us here?”

“Cadet Mayfield.” Dustin frowned, glaring across the table at Lucas. “What, you have a problem with her or something?”

“I have a problem with you inviting  _ anyone _ to join without consulting the rest of us,” Lucas shot back, returning Dustin’s glare. “Though now that you mention it, yeah, Mayfield  _ does _ have a bit of a reputation, and I’m not sure I’m going to be thrilled to have her around.”

“Well, maybe if you figured out how to pull that isolinear rod out of your ass--”

“Well maybe if  _ you _ didn’t go head over heels for the first pretty face to give you the time of day--”

Will glanced over at Mike with an expression that very plainly said  _ please intervene in this. _ Mike rolled his eyes, groaning internally. At some point, the other three had apparently decided that he was the leader of their little group, for reasons that escaped him. “Okay,” he said, speaking loudly and forcefully enough that Dustin and Lucas both stopped talking mid-bicker. “Look, I kind of agree with Lucas that I would’ve liked a heads-up before adding somebody new to the group, but the damage is done. The invitation’s been extended, and it’d be a dick move to snatch it back now. Besides, Mayfield’s in a couple of my classes. I don’t  _ know _ her, per se, but she seems… alright.”

Lucas crossed his arms. “Didn’t you say that she got in a fistfight with a Vulcan outside of your sociology class?”

Mike winced slightly; that particular incident had managed to slip his mind, somehow. “In fairness to her, the Vulcan was being a total dick.”

“Even so--” Lucas stopped abruptly, looking up and across the room at the entrance to the cafeteria. Mike followed his gaze over; sure enough, a distinctive flash of bright red hair had appeared in the doorway. Mike cautiously waved her over, which was rendered moot half a second later when Dustin sprang out of his seat and began waving much more enthusiastically.

Spotting them, Max made her way over and dropped into an empty seat at their table. “Hey,” she said in a casual tone that seemed just the slightest bit forced.

So she was as wary of them as they were wary of her. Mike looked surreptitiously around the table to gauge how the others were receiving her. Dustin was grinning at her like a loon, of course, and Will, being Will, was giving her a much more reasonable welcoming smile. Lucas, however, was glaring at her--no, not glaring, Mike realized with surprise. Just  _ staring. _

Max had clearly noticed too, because she was looking back at Lucas with a look that asked,  _ What do you think you’re staring at? _ Abashed, Lucas let his gaze drop down to the table and busied himself with taking a bite of his food.

Oh. Well. Mike fought off the urge to grin. This was going to be  _ very _ interesting to watch.

- - -

“El?!” Mike called, sitting bolt upright from his improvised bedroll.

“You all right, Mike?” Lucas was still awake, sitting close to the fire they’d kindled in a position that let him keep an eye on the entrance to the cavern.

“Yeah…” Mike said, letting himself fall backwards just a little, propping himself up on his hands. “Yeah. Sorry. I was just half asleep, and then suddenly I couldn’t shake the feeling that El was right next to me…”

“Not impossible,” Lucas said, shrugging. Seeing Mike’s skeptical expression, he added, “Well, she does that extrasensory projection thing, right? Like how she found Max when she was drifting in the debris field. It’s been long enough that the  _ Hawkins _ has got to be in orbit looking for us at this point.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Mike said. He smiled a little at the surprisingly comforting thought of El aboard the  _ Hawkins _ up above, searching for him, but it fell off his face as another image drifted into his mind. El, blood dripping from her nose, her expression pinched with exertion that she was trying not to show. “I hope she’s not pushing herself too hard,” he murmured, half to himself.

Lucas looked up from the fire. “You know, some day, you could think about worrying about your own well-being before worrying about literally everybody else’s.”

“What can I say?” Mike said. “I’m the captain, I worry about my crew.”

“Right,” Lucas said, smirking. “That’s why you spend so much time worrying about El. Because she’s your crew.”

“What exactly are you insinuating?”

“That you’re completely hopeless.” Lucas bit off the end of a ration bar and chewed it insolently.

A thought occurred to Mike, and his attention drifted over to the beacon, which they’d left at the mouth of the cavern, wrapped in one of their discarded ponchos to protect it from stray raindrops. “If El’s looking for us,” he said slowly, “then I think it’s safe to assume that they’re not picking up the beacon from orbit.”

Lucas’s expression turned thoughtful (and slightly worried) as he swallowed his bite. “Yeah, there’d be no need for her to strain herself like that if they could just home in on it,” he agreed. “So what are you thinking, Mike?”

“I’m thinking we boost the signal somehow,” Mike answered. “But I don’t know if we can do it with what we have on hand.”

“Only one way to find out, isn’t there?” Lucas got to his feet, crossed the cavern to retrieve the beacon, and settled back down next to Mike, holding the beacon in his lap. “All right,” he said, pulling a multitool out from the kit at his waist. “This might be a bit of a delicate operation--I don’t know how complicated this thing is.”

With a few deft strokes, he pried part of the casing off, and he and Mike immediately scoffed.

“Never mind, this is dead simple,” Lucas said.

“Practically child’s play,” agreed Mike. “They must keep the design basic so there’s less chance of malfunction.”

“Probably. Let’s see…” Lucas began tracing the beacon’s internal components with the tip of his multitool’s’ probe. “Okay, so we’ve got the connection to the power source, and then through here… I see, I see… and I think that these are resistors?”

“Yeah,” said Mike. “They want a strong enough power supply to last indefinitely, but if you let too much power through the conduits, it’ll overload the beacon and burn it out.”

“Overload, you say?” Lucas said, raising an eyebrow.

“We’d get, what, a few minutes of boosted signal? Then it’d fry the beacon and we’d have a useless lump of metal.”

“It’s  _ already _ a useless lump of metal, for all the good it’s doing us now.”

“True,” agreed Mike. He grinned. “Will will yell at us.”

“Will will be too happy to see us alive to yell at us,” Lucas said, giving him a look.

“No, I’ll tell him that it won’t really feel like we’re back until he yells at us.”

Lucas rolled his eyes. “Are we doing this or not?”

“I mean, this cave  _ is  _ pretty cozy--” Mike cut himself off as Lucas glared; he was overdoing it with the teasing. “Okay, fine, I’ll stop. Yes, let’s do this.”

“Aye, captain.” Biting his lip in concentration, Lucas began to experimentally poke and then pry at the resistors. The internal circuitry of the beacon snapped and sparked as they came loose and clattered down to the stone floor. “All right, that should do it,” he said. He wrapped the beacon back up in the poncho, and together they returned it to the mouth of the cavern, blinking against the scattered droplets of rain that the wind whipped into their faces.

“Guess we’ll find out in a minute if it worked,” Lucas said.

“Guess we--” Mike started to say, and then he felt a familiar disorientation as the world around him ceased to exist in a bright flash of white.

- - -

“I thought I’d find you up here,” Mike said.

Lucas laughed, but it was a breathless, weak sort of laugh. “Am I that predictable?”

“Only to people who know you well enough to know that you always come to the roof of the science building when you need some space to think,” Mike replied mildly. “I mean, I’m not intruding, am I?”

“No, no,” Lucas said. “If somebody had to find me, let it be you. I was just feeling…”

“...overwhelmed?” Mike finished. “Like you’re staring down the future all of a sudden?”

Lucas nodded. “Funny how two years seems so short in retrospect, when at the time it seemed like it was going to last forever,” he said. “And now here I am, trying to wrap my head around the fact that tomorrow I’m getting on board a starship and flying away from here… away from all of you.”

“You want to see if we can trade berths?” Mike asked, grinning. “I could get you on board the  _ Anansi  _ with Max…”

“Please,” Lucas snorted. “If Max and I got on the same starship, we’d become  _ that _ couple in record time, and everybody would hate us.” He turned something over in his hand; Mike caught a flash of gold. “No, I don’t have any regrets about Max--not about our relationship, and not about moving on now that it’s time. I just… hope she doesn’t forget me, you know?”

“Well, I can’t speak for her,” Mike said, “but I’m pretty sure that I’m going to find you pretty unforgettable, Lucas Sinclair.”

“Right back at you, Mike Wheeler,” Lucas grinned. “How are the others holding up?”

“Well, Dustin’s been bawling at the drop of a hat, so we’ve all been taking turns giving him a shoulder to cry on,” Mike said. “Will was taking care of that when I headed out to find you.”

“Uh-huh. And how are you and Will doing?”

“We’re… good. I know things were tense for a while there between us--and I’m sorry the rest of you had to deal with that--but we’ve talked it out, and we’ve come to a place where we’re both okay.” Mike shrugged. “Like you said, no regrets. Oh, and Max is trying  _ very _ hard to be patient and give you space, but it’s also  _ very _ obvious that she wants to get the two of you alone sometime tonight while you’ve still got the chance.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Lucas said with a fond smile. His palm turned up, showing Mike what he’d been holding: a golden coin, engraved on the face-up side with an iconic view of the Academy.

“Is that for her?” Mike asked.

“Yeah,” Lucas said. “Like I said before… I don’t want her to forget me. I guess I should go to her, huh?”

“You ‘should’ do whatever seems most right to you in this moment,” Mike replied.

Lucas laughed, a little stronger and warmer than he had at the beginning. “Classic Mike advice. Well, I know that I should go to her sooner or later here, because if I don’t I’m going to regret it for a long time to come.” His expression subsided down to a warm smile. “I’m going to miss you, Mike. I mean, a whole lot.”

“Hey, there, this is only goodbye for now. We’ll see each other again, Lucas.”

“You sound awfully confident of that.”

Mike grinned. “That’s because I intend to  _ make _ it happen.”

- - -

“I feel fine,” Mike said from his bed. “Do you feel fine, Lucas?”

“I feel  _ great _ ,” Lucas replied from his. “Honestly, I don’t know why I’m lying here. I feel like I could get up and go run laps.”

“Maybe play a round of racquetball,” added Mike.

“Even try a bit of light sparring with a Klingon.”

“Be that as it may, the only opinion that matters here is mine,” Doctor Ouvens said. He was standing between their two beds in sickbay, not even bothering to look up from his datapad as they snarked at him. “You two will remain here until I am  _ perfectly  _ satisfied that you are both in good health. My authority supersedes even the captain’s on this matter, so don’t bother trying to override me.”

“Geez, hardass,” Lucas said. “Where’d you find this guy, Mike?”

“Some kind of clandestine black ops, apparently,” Mike said.

_ That  _ got Ouvens to look up briefly, if only for a glance that was equal parts annoyance and amusement. “Even if you could appeal my judgement,” he said, “I happen to know that the current commanding officer of this vessel agrees with me.”

Mike grimaced. With both him and Lucas officially out of commission, Max was in charge of the  _ Hawkins _ \--and Ouvens was right, she would personally come down and wrestle both him and Lucas back into their sickbeds if she thought she had to. “Fine,” he sighed. “We’ll be model patients.”

“Yes you will,” Ouvens said as he walked away, crossing the room to settle in at his desk.

“So,” Lucas said, turning his head so he could look across the gap at Mike. “That was an adventure.”

“It sure was,” said Mike. “You happy you managed to get a bit of excitement in after that incredibly boring ceremony I dragged you to?”

“Eh, excitement’s overrated,” said Lucas. “Give me a stack of paperwork, any day.”

Mike grinned. “I’m going to remember you said that once we’re back on duty.”

“I  _ will _ throw my pillow at you, Mike.”

“No you won’t!” Doctor Ouvens called sternly from across the room.

Lucas pulled a face, and Mike had to bite his lip to keep from cracking up. “Well, I have to say,” Mike added after drawing in and releasing a deep breath, “if I was going to crash-land on a deserted, storm-wracked planet, I’m glad it was with you. I can’t describe what a relief it’s been, having you around to rely on.”

“And you’ve been one hell of a fearless leader,” Lucas said. “I mean, not that that’s in any way a surprise--we always said you were a captain at heart even back when you were a cadet.”

Mike rolled his eyes. “I guess I’ll take that as a compliment. Thanks.” Smiling secretly to himself, he let his head relax back onto his pillow and his eyelids droop. It wasn’t his usual way, but if he was stuck in sickbay anyway, he supposed he could let himself rest easy just this once.

After all, he could count on his friends.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another breather chapter for this week. Gotten enough breath yet? Good, because things are going to start happening again before too long...


	16. Storm Warning

_ “Captain’s log: We’ve been diverted from our patrol route by a distress signal coming from what seems to be some sort of civilian research station in the Gygax system. We’ve been unable to establish contact with the station beyond the initial signal; I’ve brought all hands on deck to help with investigating the nature of the emergency, as well as searching for any survivors.” _

“Approaching the station now, captain,” Kali said.

“Thank you, Ms. Prasad,” Mike answered. “Ms. Hopper, can you tell me anything about the station’s condition?”

“Scanning now, captain,” El said. “Its shields are down, but it doesn’t seem to have sustained any… uh, make that any  _ external  _ damage.”

Mike raised an eyebrow. “Clarify, please, Ms. Hopper.”

“Well, there certainly seems to be  _ some _ damage. I don’t have the schematics for the station, so I can’t say for sure what’s what, but… well,  _ that _ has to be a shuttle bay, and it’s been completely wrecked. And there’s a few other areas I can’t quite identify as well… the point is, there isn’t any damage to the outer hull at all, meaning that the damage came from  _ inside _ the station.”

“Sabotage?” Max asked from the tactical station.

“Possibly. We can’t rule out some sort of critical malfunction, although the distribution of the damage--” El was cut off as her console chirped at her. “Captain, we’re being hailed. Audio transmission only.”

“Maybe we’ll finally get some answers,” Mike said, trading a glance with Lucas, who was standing beside him as usual. “All right, Ms. Hopper, put them through.”

_ “H-hello?” _ A man’s voice, feeble and just slightly  _ odd, _ somehow, crackled over the comm.  _ “Federation?” _

“Yes, this is Captain Mike Wheeler of the  _ USS Hawkins, _ United Federation of Planets,” Mike replied. “We received your distress signal and have come to aid you.”

_ “Yes… yes, good. Help, please.” _

“Can you tell me what happened here?”

_ “Soon… we need help.” _

Mike let out a sigh, trading another look with Lucas. “Very well. We’ll send an away team to assist you right away. If any of your people are in critical need of medical--”

_ “Mike, no!” _

The sound of Will’s voice on the comm shocked the bridge into stillness, and Mike swallowed hard, a nameless fear coiling in his gut. Will wasn’t the sort to just jump in like this without observing comm protocol--which could only mean that something, somehow, was terribly wrong. “Ms. Hopper,” he said sharply, drawing a line across his throat with a quick gesture. She nodded and punched a button on her console, removing the man from the station from their channel. “Mr. Byers, talk to me. What’s going on?”

_ “I… I don’t know. I mean, I don’t know how I know this, I just do, but… it’s  _ ** _there_ ** _ , Mike, there on the station. I can feel it, the same way I can feel that there’s air in the room.” _

Mike ran a mental check of what Will could possibly mean by ‘it’ and didn’t like what he found. “Ms. Hopper,” he said quietly, keeping his voice steady. “Do you have access to the records regarding the exotic matter that was found in Mr. Byers’ system following the incident in the In-Between?”

“I do, sir,” El replied. She was steady and composed, even though she had to know where he was going with this, and he felt a swell of gratitude for it.

“Can you…” Mike continued. “Can you run a scan of the station to see if you can detect any of that same exotic matter on board?”

Mike heard Lucas draw in a sharp breath beside him, and Max curse softly behind him. Kali and the remainder of the bridge crew just looked mildly perturbed--but they hadn’t been present at the debriefing where he’d declared that particular incident classified.

“Running the scan now, captain,” El said. She worked her console for several seconds before letting out a soft  _ “oh” _ that sounded very much like it should’ve been followed by an expletive.

“Ms. Hopper…?” Mike asked tentatively.

She spun in her seat, eyes wide with shock. “It’s  _ everywhere, _ sir,” she said. “I’m getting hits throughout the entire station. I… I think they’re all infected.”

“Shit,” hissed Lucas.

Mike pounded on the arm of his chair, using the sound and the sensation to pull his brain back into focus. “Shields up, go to yellow alert,” he ordered. “Ms. Prasad, take us away from the station--fifty thousand klicks.”

“Yes, sir,” Kali said as she complied, though she clearly still didn’t understand what was going on. Mike could hardly fault her for that, given that he was the one that had kept it from her.

“All senior staff to the ready room immediately,” Mike ordered. “Bring Doctor Ouvens in too. Operations, I want you to keep eyes on that station. Let me know  _ immediately _ if anything significant changes.”

- - -

_ “How?!” _ Dustin asked. He was up and pacing along the side of the briefing table, too agitated to sit still. “We kept all of our information on the In-Between tightly classified! How did some random research station end up with it?!”

Mike shared an uncomfortable look with Doctor Ouvens, who’d taken up his unofficial position against the wall at the far end of the room. “I think I know,” he said. “When that Section 31 operative assassinated the ambassador, she also broke into my personal terminal and stole copies of a bunch of my files. Including the ones on the In-Between.”

Dustin stopped short, turning to stare at Mike in shock. “You mean we’re dealing with Section 31 here as well?!”

“This doesn’t  _ look _ like a Section 31 operation,” Max said.

“It’d rather defeat the purpose if it did,” Ouvens remarked dryly. “Nonetheless, it is unlikely that the entire station was being run by them. Inserting a single plant in a key position to manipulate its operations is much more in line with their MO.”

“So their plant hands them the data from our incident like, hey, we should check this out,” Lucas said. “Then one ill-advised experiment later, the entire station’s infected by that… thing.”

“I think it was trying to lure us in,” Will added. Mike noted with some concern how drawn and stressed he was looking. “When it was… inside of me, it went through my brain for information about the Federation, and the state of things on our side in general. I think… I think it wants to  _ invade _ us.”

“Then why didn’t it transport any of its… er, thralls aboard the  _ Hawkins?” _ Max asked. “We were in range with our shields down for several minutes before we got Will’s warning.”

“I don’t think it could,” El said, making all eyes in the room turn to her. “The damage in the station, the sabotage… it was concentrated on the shuttle bay, along with several other areas in particular that I couldn’t positively identify. I think they might have been transporter bays. I think… I think when the crew realized what was happening, they sabotaged every way off the station to prevent this thing from escaping.”

A solemn silence settled over the room.

“So… what do we do?” Lucas asked.

“The station’s completely unarmed,” Max said. “Combat-wise, it’s no match for us, and we’ve got more than enough firepower to blow it into dust. But…”

“...but that would mean killing the crew in the process,” Dustin finished. “And we know that it’s possible to save them, because we saved Will.”

“This is normally the part where I’d float the idea of sacrificing them for the greater good,” Ouvens put in. “But previous experience has taught me that that’s not going to fly.”

“Absolutely not,” Mike said, shooting him a look. Even as he did so, though, something occurred to him. “Doctor Ouvens… you were able to flush this entity out of Will using energy fields. I’m assuming that you kept records on the particulars of that?”

Ouvens raised an eyebrow. “Of course, but flushing each crew member from the station is going to be a tall order. There’s dozens of them at least, and they’re going to be fighting back the entire time.”

“Right, so…” Mike leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers in front of him. “Hypothetically, let’s say… if you had Will and Dustin helping you… do you think you could rig up a device to release those energy fields as a  _ blast? _ Preferably one large enough to hit the entire station at once?”

Everybody else in the room was staring at him. Most of them were gaping slightly.

“It’s… possible, yes,” Ouvens answered. “The side effects won’t be pretty if I do it like that, but it’d certainly be preferable to being possessed by this entity…” He reached up and scratched thoughtfully at his chin. “The main problem is that we won’t be able to just transport it in and have it go off--somebody’s going to need to be on-site to operate it.”

“And we’re going to need to go in and shut down whatever equipment they’re using to hold the breach to the In-Between open,” Dustin added. “Otherwise this entity is just going to come back through and re-infect them.”

“So we  _ are _ going to have to send in an away team,” said Lucas, looking at Mike.

“I’ll go,” Will said. He was holding his expression firm in spite of the strain showing on his face. “I have the most direct experience with this entity.”

Mike shook his head. “No, Will.”

“Mike--”

Mike held up a hand to forestall his objection. “I appreciate your bravery in volunteering, but it’s clear that there’s still enough of this entity in your system for it to have an effect on you. I don’t want to risk putting you in closer proximity to it, not when we don’t know what effect that’s going to have.” His gaze drifted over to El. Damn it, he didn’t want to do this--he  _ really _ didn’t want to do this--but if Will was out of the picture, then she was the only one he could rely on to handle the job. “El, do you think you can operate this device?”

She nodded once, determined. “Yes, sir.”

- - -

With Lucas beside him, Mike looked out over the transporter room as the away team made their final preparations.

El was there, of course--standing on the transporter pad next to the bulky device that Ouvens, Will, and Dustin had all worked together to concoct in record time. Nearby, at the base of the pad, Max was making a final check over her equipment along with a dozen members of the security team that she’d picked for this mission. Mixed in amongst the yellow uniforms were two blue--Steve and Robin, who’d volunteered on the basis of their previous experience with the In-Between, and been tasked with leading the group that would be shutting down whatever was generating the station’s breach.

Seeing that Max had finished her check, Lucas stepped forward, with Mike trailing behind him at a respectful distance. “I’ve already said everything I should say as your commanding officer,” Lucas said to Max. “So if I can take a moment to speak as your friend and lover…”

“I’m going to be fine, Lucas.” Max smiled at him, touching the side of his face affectionately. “I’ve got this.”

“I know you do,” Lucas said, though his smile was more subdued. “Just… be careful, all right? It’d hurt to lose you.”

Max nodded, and pressed her lips to his with more softness than Mike was used to seeing from the two of them, though he supposed that these were extraordinary circumstances. He averted his gaze to avoid staring as they kissed, which, unintentionally or otherwise, had the effect of landing his eyes on El. Looking at her, with the words Max and Lucas had just shared fresh in his mind, stirred something inside of him, and his legs began to move, carrying him over towards her.

“Captain?” El looked up, soft and concerned, as he approached.

“Lieutenant. Um, El.” Mike swallowed. What had he even come over to say? His thoughts were suddenly scrambled, words being washed away by raw emotions, and as he groped for them, the first ones he managed to grasp at weren’t his. “I just wanted to say… well, I also wanted to say to be careful. Because… it’d hurt to lose you too.”

El’s eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open slightly, which Mike knew was a sign of incredible shock coming from her--she rarely lost her composure to that degree. For a breathless moment, he wondered if he should apologize for overstepping his bounds, but then El reached out and took his hand in hers, squeezing his fingers slightly. She met his gaze and simply nodded, seemingly sharing his difficulty forming words in this moment.

“Okay, time to move out!” Max called, jolting Mike back to reality. “Captain, get off my pad.” Mike released El’s hand and he stepped back, down off the pad and over to the control panel where the transport operator was standing by. His eyes lingered on El, though, and as the rest of the away team assembled around her, she looked back up and their gazes caught again, just for a moment.

Then Max gave the order to energize, the pad erupted with bright white light, and they were gone.

- - -

El’s heart was hammering in her chest as the disembodied sensation of transport gave way to reality, and she was sure it was only partly because of the adrenaline rush of going on a dangerous mission. No, Mike’s sudden display of vulnerability and tenderness had caught her well and truly off guard, and while part of her wanted to be irked at the timing, a more rational part of her acknowledged that he couldn’t reasonably have known how much it would affect her, given how tightly she’d been keeping a lid on her own feelings.

No matter, in any case. She had a job to do, and she’d as good as promised Mike that she’d make it through this in one piece. Not that she hadn’t intended to do that already, but it made it feel more important, somehow. El took her promises seriously.

“Bit quiet for a station that’s supposed to be swarming with hostiles, isn’t it?” Steve said. He hoisted his mace--a custom job that Dustin had replicated specially for him--so that it was laying flat across his shoulders.

“Too quiet, to use the cliche,” Max said. Her eyes were darting around, taking in the room around them, figuring out where the transporter had landed them, paths and sightlines. “They’re setting up to ambush us, I’d bet my pips on it. Buckley, do you have a read on the breach’s position?”

“Hang on, I need to triangulate with the  _ Hawkins’ _ sensors right quick…” Robin was poring over a tricorder. “Got it. This way.” She pointed down one of the hallways extending away from them into darkness.

“All right,” Max said. “Beta Squad, on Ensigns Buckley and Harrington. Your job is to get them to whatever’s generating the breach so that they can shut it down. Phasers out and set to stun--assume that you could be attacked at any moment.”

Half of the dozen security personnel that had come with them voiced acknowledgement and set off at a swift walk, following Robin and Steve down the hallway that Robin had indicated.

“That leaves us with the hard job, Alpha Squad,” Max continued. “We need to get this to the dead center of the station before we can set it off. Cherryh, Ygolonac, you’re carrying the payload. The rest of you, fan out in a defensive line with me on point. Hopper, you’re behind me.”

“Are you sure--?” El began to ask.

Max held up a hand to stop her. “We need you to operate the device, which as far as I’m concerned makes you part of the payload. So again: behind me.”

El nodded, drawing her phaser as she fell into position behind Max. They began to move as a group, going slowly to accommodate the two who were carrying the device, the other security personnel spread around them in a loose circle that kept eyes out in all directions. El let her gaze fall on Max’s back as she walked, using the bright yellow uniform as a guide to keep her on track as she began probing outward with her less mundane senses. Tracking down any single hostile would be a significant effort--and of limited usefulness besides--but she had other tricks up her sleeve that could help them.

Like right now. “Wait,” she said quietly, after they had been walking for several minutes.

Max gestured for the group to halt. “What is it?” she asked, looking back over her shoulder and speaking in a low voice that matched El’s.

El nodded at a turn in the hallway before them. “There,” she said. “There’s something… can’t say what for sure, but…”

Max nodded, understanding the implication. She made a series of gestures at two of the other security personnel; some kind of nonverbal communication that El wasn’t familiar with, given that they nodded their understanding. Then, with a sudden movement, she whirled and fired her phaser, not down the hallway, but angling up to hit the light fixtures that were just barely visible around the edge of the corner; the damaged lights flickered and sparked, drawing startled yelps from whoever was hidden beyond. At the same time, the two security personnel rushed forward and took up firing positions at the bend, a series of strobing flashes lighting up the hallway as they poured phaser shots down its length.

“Clear!” one of them called, and the rest of the group moved to catch up to them. Unmoving humanoid forms littered the floor of the hallway they’d been firing down; El counted five in total. She stepped forward to get a closer look.

“El,” Max said in a warning tone.

“They just got hit by maximum-power stun blasts, they’re going to be out for a while,” El replied. “I just want to see…” She crouched next to the nearest one, a male Bolian, rolling him over onto his back. Mottled black blood vessels stood out on the blue skin of his face and neck, making her blanch slightly. That was  _ not _ normal for a Bolian, nor any humanoid species that she was familiar with. And she couldn’t shake the sense of something stirring inside of him, something cold and… well,  _ angry _ wasn’t quite the right word.

More like  _ hostile. _

The Bolian’s eyes snapped open, and his hand shot out with lightning speed. El made a slight choking noise as it closed around her neck, clamping down on her windpipe. Behind her, she heard Max cry out and come sprinting for them; without taking his eyes off of El, the Bolian lifted one leg and drove a vicious kick into Max’s midsection, knocking her backwards and driving the air from her lungs. She hit the floor hard, gasping for breath.

“El,” the Bolian snarled, his eyes a deep, boiling black.

It remembered her. El realized that she was in between the Bolian and the other members of their squad; none of them would have a clear shot. She had only moments to act. Desperately drawing in the few traces of air that she could, she reached out for the Bolian’s face, digging her fingers into his temple.

His mind opened up to her, filled with howling black winds like a hurricane made of shadow. The Bolian’s native consciousness was inert, knocked out by the stun shots--whatever this thing was, it was expending a significant amount of effort to animate the body directly, through sheer force of its hostility. And El was fighting it alone.

_ Get out, _ she thought wildly, frantically, trying to focus through the haze that was collecting around the edges of her vision.  _ Get out get out get out GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT-- _

The Bolian’s head snapped backwards as though she’d punched him in the face, rebounding off the floor before coming to rest at a slight angle. His grip released, arm dropping, and El gratefully gasped in a full breath of air as she toppled backwards, only to be caught in a pair of arms behind her.

“Fuck me, El,” Max said, her voice still ragged from the earlier blow. “Are you okay?”

El nodded. A stream of blood was trickling from her nostrils; she wiped at it with one hand. “Underestimated it,” she wheezed. “Aggressive… dangerous.”

“No shit.” Max rose to her feet, helping El to stand along the way. “Come on, let’s get moving. The sooner we can blow that thing out of here, the better.”

- - -

The core of the station was a wide, circular room with three exits spaced evenly around its circumference. At the center of the room, surrounded by banks of consoles, stood a large cylinder, pulsing softly with light; the top end of the station’s central reactor. El had directed the other members of the squad to drop the device next to it, and was currently in the middle of wiring the device into the reactor to deliver the surge of power it would need to set off the blast.

“Three exits… three doors to cover,” Max was saying, half to herself. “We should keep watch outside, so they don’t have a chance to get a shot at the device… that’s two to a door, plus me.”

“I’ll keep an eye on things in here,” El said, standing back from her work. “If something goes wrong, I’ll scream really loud.”

“As novel as it would be to hear you scream… maybe not under these circumstances,” Max said. “Stay sharp, El.”

El nodded at her, tapping her combadge as the rest of the squad scrambled to take up their positions outside of each door. “Hopper to Beta Squad,” she said. “We’ve reached the target area and are ready to deliver the payload upon confirmation that you’ve shut down the breach.”

Robin’s voice came back in answer, undercut by the sound of phaser fire.  _ “Copy that, Lieutenant. We’re running into some… minor difficulties on our end.” _

“Understood, Ensign. Inform me as soon as you’ve completed your objective… and be careful.” El bent over the device, frowning at a readout screen embedded on top of it. If she wasn’t going to be able to set off the device right away, then she was going to have to carefully manage the amount of energy being fed into its system in order to prevent it from overloading…

_ “Well, this is an interesting development.” _

El leaped back from the device, her hand moving automatically to the phaser holstered at her hip. It wasn’t until she’d drawn it and begun sweeping the room for hostiles that she realized the voice had the telltale electronic distortions of a transmission--not coming from her combadge, but somewhere in the room. Her eyes landed on one of the nearby consoles, which had lit up apparently of its own volition; its screen was displaying the shadowy outline of a humanoid.

“Who are you?” she asked, returning her phaser to its holster.

She couldn’t make out the humanoid’s expression, but that didn’t stop her from getting the impression of a  _ smile, _ one that sent a shiver down her spine.  _ “My name is Martin Brenner,” _ it said.  _ “And while my observation of this scenario has been yielding some fascinating results, none of them compare to the chance to finally meet  _ ** _you_ ** _ , Lieutenant Eleven Hopper.” _

El’s body went cold. “You’re with Section 31.”

_ “Fast on the uptake,” _ the figure commented.  _ “I appreciate that in a person.” _ It made a thoughtful noise.  _ “Eleven… that’s a significant number to the Tymbrimi, isn’t it? Indivisible. Your mother must have had high hopes for you…” _

It was a classic tactic, trying to get under her skin. El returned to the device, trying to shut Brenner’s voice out as she adjusted the energy feed.

_ “I’ve been hoping to speak to you ever since I first got my hands on your files,” _ Brenner persisted.  _ “Your natural abilities are remarkable, and your Starfleet record speaks to no small amount of capability. You’d make an invaluable asset…” _

“I have  _ no _ interest in working with Section 31,” El replied flatly, not looking up from her work. “I’ve seen your methods for myself.”

Brenner gave a soft, derisive snort.  _ “You are, no doubt, referring to the incident resulting in Ambassador Mawhrin’s death,” _ he said.  _ “An unfortunate necessity, to be sure. But duty to the Federation requires--” _

“I  _ know _ duty,” El snapped, allowing her focus to slip just enough to glance up sharply at him. “I came to this station at significant personal risk because of duty. Do  _ not _ talk to me about duty while you’re sitting there on a remote feed, watching other people die.”

Silence from Brenner’s end.  _ “Unfortunate that you feel this way,”  _ he said at last.  _ “I was hoping that you would be more reasonable than this--” _

_ “Buckley to Hopper!” _ Robin’s voice cut in, coming from El’s combadge.  _ “We’ve got the breach closed! Set it off,  _ ** _now_ ** _ !” _

“I’m sorry, Brenner,” El said without a trace of actual apology in her voice. “This conversation is over.” She slapped a button on the device’s interface, and it pulsed, sending a wash of glowing energy radiating out through the station--

- - -

“And you’re sure he said ‘Martin Brenner’?” Doctor Ouvens asked as he leaned over her, running a scanner over her neck. Sickbay was jammed full to overflowing, every available medical crew member on the  _ Hawkins _ having been tapped to perform triage on the recently freed crew of the research station, as well as the members of the away team.

“Positive,” El said. “Does the name mean something to you?”

“Unfortunately,” Ouvens sighed. “Martin Brenner is something of an extremist, even by the standards of Section 31. If he’s built enough of a power base to have his way…”

“I shudder to think what sort of person  _ you _ would consider an extremist.”

Ouvens made a face that was somewhere between a smile and a grimace. “That’s… fair,” he replied mildly. “Well, the good news is that there doesn’t seem to be any significant damage to your trachea. Some mild contusions--you’ll have the bruises for a few days--but nothing that should cause any complications.”

“Then you should see to your other patients, doctor.” El rose from the stool she’d been sitting on and gave him a curt nod, which he returned before bustling off to examine somebody on one of the sickbeds.

“Whew,” Max commented, approaching from the side. Apparently her examination was complete as well. “All told, that mission went relatively smoothly.”

“It definitely could’ve gone a lot worse,” El agreed, even as the bruises on her neck throbbed slightly with pain. They fell into step side by side, exiting into the hallway and walking past a line of people who were still waiting to be examined. “Have we made any headway on finding the Section 31 plant?”

Max drew in a breath through her teeth. “The good news is, yes, based on the information we’ve managed to gather from the crew and the station’s data banks, we’ve managed to identify a suspect who’s almost certainly the plant,” she said. “The bad news is, he’s currently MIA.”

“Probably took off the moment things went wrong,” El growled. “Coward.”

“That’s the way with these espionage types, isn’t it?” Max asked philosophically. “Always sneaking around trying to knife you in the back instead of standing and fighting.”

El gave her a sidelong glance. “You sound like a Klingon when you say that.”

Max grinned. “Don’t you think I’d make a good Klingon?”

“Maybe. Is that a compliment?”

“Hey, you should have a more open mind, Miss I-Have-Feet-In-Two-Cultures.” Max lifted an eyebrow, looking further down the hallway. El followed her gaze and realized--with a slight fluttering in her chest--that Mike was standing there, waiting with one shoulder leaned against the wall.

“Captain,” she said as they approached. “What are you doing here?”

“Staying out of Doctor Ouvens’ way, mostly,” he replied, straightening up. “But I had a feeling you’d be out of sickbay sooner rather than later.” Max snorted, and El felt her face heat slightly; Mike stepped closer, something complicated and unreadable behind his eyes. “Permission to hug you, lieutenant?”

El’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re… my superior officer, sir,” she replied, trying to hide how desperately she was grasping at her composure right now.

“That doesn’t give me a right to your personal space,” Mike retorted. “So, again: permission to hug you?”

“...permission granted,” El sighed. “Get over here, Mike.” They both stepped forward into an embrace, Mike’s arms wrapping around her torso with gentle strength. El turned her head to the side, lightly resting her cheek against Mike’s chest, which had the side effect of turning her gaze towards Max, who was looking back at her with the mother of all knowing smirks. El gave her her fiercest  _ piss off _ glare in response, which was only partially successful; Max casually strolled away down the hallway, the smirk still plastered across her face.

After a few long, blissfully Max-free moments, Mike relaxed his grip and took a step back, with El mirroring him. His gaze dropped down to El’s neck, and he tentatively reached out towards her darkening bruises. For a heady second El found herself thinking that she would  _ not _ mind if he reached the rest of the way, but his hand dropped away before his fingertips could brush her skin.

“I’m all right,” she said.

“I wasn’t going to ask,” he replied.

She arched an eyebrow at him. “Yes, you were.”

“I was thinking about it,” he said, giving her an arch look in return, “but I already knew what your answer was going to be.”

“Am I that predictable, then?”

“On this subject? Absolutely.” He shook his head. “I worry, that’s all.”

“I know you do.” Instinctively, she reached out for him, and experienced a brief moment of indecision regarding where she should place her hand; she settled for running it down his arm, from his shoulder down to his elbow. “I really am all right, though.”

“If you insist, then I’ll trust your judgement on that.” His smile was somewhat subdued, and he briefly touched his hand to hers on his elbow before letting it drop. “Well… I suppose you’re going to need to write up your official report on the mission. As you were, lieutenant.”

“The paperwork never ends, does it? I’ll see you later, Mike.” With a final pat on the arm, El stepped around him and walked off down the hall.

With her back turned, she didn’t see his gaze following her, didn’t see the look in his eyes like pieces clicking together in his head, like something suddenly made sense to him.

- - -

The shadow rode through the emptiness, clinging to a body that was rapidly becoming a corpse.

In the final moments before its defeat, it had hurled this body and this piece of itself out of an airlock, a desperate gambit to carry on its plans as the rest of it had been burned away by a bright light flooding through the station. The body’s innate protests and futile attempts to fight back against this course of action, frantic at first, had dulled down to almost nothing as the vacuum took its toll on its fragile biology. Once, it had been a man of secrets and violence, instrumental in unleashing the shadow upon this reality. Now it was a simple means to an end, a tool for the shadow’s will.

As it should be.

Its target loomed large before it, the shining metal hull of the vessel, something these ridiculous creatures needed to pass through the emptiness without ceasing to function. The body bumped up against the hull, and the shadow reached out. Beneath the metal skin, it could sense something at work--a mind of sorts, metal and electricity instead of the meat and chemicals it was currently attached to, too vast and complex for the shadow to subsume in its diminished state. But it was a framework, something that it could connect to and reside in while it plotted its next move. It would do.

The shadow released its hold on the body, sending it drifting aimlessly back out into the emptiness. It slid through the metal skin and into the synaptic circuits, stretching and shifting as it searched for a quiet, innocuous corner where it could wait. Its chance would come, and soon. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I believe it's traditional to say "dun dun DUN!" at this time. I had way too much fun writing this chapter, so I hope you all suffer... I mean, enjoy it. Enjoy it is what I meant.


	17. Illusions And Nightmares

_ “Operations log: Another quiet day today, the latest of a string of strangely quiet days since the incident with the possessed station. Mike came in while I was making some adjustments to the  _ Hawkins’ _ systems today, kept me company, helped with some of the more basic tasks. I’m incredibly lucky to have ended up with him as my captain. He’s intelligent and capable, but also considerate, with a sense of right and wrong that’s nothing short of noble--gallant, even. He--wait. I probably shouldn’t be putting all of this in an official log. Computer, transfer that entire entry to my personal log…” _

The twilight cast a deep violet hue across the sky, rimmed with orange and yellow along the horizon. El leaned back on her hands, sitting in a field of pale grass that gleamed around the edges with an almost crystalline array of colors, though it was feather-soft to the touch. The faded light of the setting sun was supplemented by a series of intricately carved pillars, each topped with a blazing fire. They were placed at regular intervals, extending as far as the eye could see--El knew that if she were to view the scene from overhead, it’d be an infinite plane of points of light arranged into a grid. A massive swarm of iridescent butterflies was flying across the sky, flashing with color as they moved.

“What do you think?” Kali asked from beside El, grinning nervously.

El grinned back at her. “It’s  _ incredible, _ Kali,” she said. “You’ve really outdone yourself with this one.”

Kali’s expression relaxed into a more genuine smile. “Thanks, El,” she said. “I mean, it’s really more of a proof of concept right now. I don’t know exactly what I’m going to do with it…”

“You don’t have to  _ do _ anything with it, really,” El said. She waved a hand through the grass, enjoying the light tickling sensation. She’d known that Kali had a flair for visuals in the holodeck programs she made, but to add such  _ tactile _ sensations as well… “There’s nothing wrong with having space for people to just  _ be.” _

Kali made a thoughtful  _ hmph. _ “I suppose that’s true,” she said. “I was just thinking that it might be good to try and do something different… I get these images in my head, sort of moods and feelings and settings, and I love making them real--so to speak--but I have so much trouble when it comes to making things  _ happen.” _

“Well, some people would say that you’re perfectly fine sticking with what you’re good at and enjoy,” El said, lying back on the grass with her arms spread wide.

“Others would say that it’s good to try new things, even if you’re not good at them, so that you can branch out and grow,” Kali countered.

“Fair enough,” El agreed, smiling. “If you do end up doing something with it, would you mind keeping a copy of this version available? I think I want to add it to my regular rotation of relaxation spaces.”

“For you? I’ll make you your own personal copy.”

El laughed. “Oh, I’m honored.”

“Only the best for my bridge buddy.” Kali’s smile slipped off her face. “Do you… do you think this is something that Commander Byers might enjoy?”

Will? “Maybe,” El said. “Why do you ask?”

Kali shrugged. “Oh I was just… well, I thought maybe, if it was something that he would find relaxing…”

El’s lips pursed. She was talking around what they both knew--what a significant portion of the ship’s crew knew--that Will had been having a difficult time ever since they’d cleared out the possessed station. The lingering trauma symptoms from his possession by the shadow entity during his foray into the In-Between had ratcheted up in intensity, and although he’d initially tried to power through it by throwing himself into his work (a bad habit shared by a number of the senior staff, she reflected ruefully), Mike had quickly stepped in and forced him to take a break from the bulk of his duties. “He might,” she replied, shrugging. “If nothing else, I’m sure he’ll appreciate the thought.”

Kali’s smile returned, relieved, and El smiled back at her. Her eyes slid back to the horizon, and she frowned softly--a patch of the sky in the distance had started to darken, a deep inky black that was spreading even as she watched. “What is that?” El asked, pointing.

Following the gesture, Kali cocked her head to the side in bewilderment. “I… don’t know. I didn’t program that in.”

El got a dull, hollow feeling in her stomach. “If you didn’t program it in, then it shouldn’t be here.”

As if by unspoken agreement, the two of them rose simultaneously to their feet. “Computer, freeze program!” Kali called. At once, the flickering of the flames, the bobbing of the grass, and the drifting of the clouds overhead all came to a stop, as though the scene around them had suddenly become a photograph. The darkness continued spreading; tendrils had begun to sprout from it, crossing the distance between the horizon and them as though it were much shorter than it was supposed to be, a violation of perspective that made El almost dizzy to look at.

“What the  _ hell--?” _ Kali sad.

The tendrils converged and coalesced a few feet in front of them, making El take an involuntary step back. As she watched, the darkness took shape, flowing into a large humanoid form, in excess of nine feet tall, with distended limbs as though they’d been stretched out like taffy. Mottled gray skin came into existence around it, and it unfurled a mouth like a toothy flower, letting out a low snarl.

The  _ what _ was obvious--the match to Dustin’s description of the creature his team had seen in the In-Between was nearly perfect. The bigger question, roaring through El’s brain as she and Kali stood rooted to the ground in shock, was  _ how…? _

An elongated limb whipped out, and El barely had time to roll with the incoming blow before it caught her in the side, knocking her sideways into Kali, who managed to catch her and keep both of them on their feet. Pain lanced through El where she’d been hit--not the unpleasant but harmless electric buzz that the holodeck’s safety protocols normally allowed, but sharp, honest-to-goodness  _ pain. _

“Run!” she yelled, getting her feet back under her and taking off at a spring, catching Kali by the wrist to pull her along.

“El, what’s going on?” Kali yelped as they went. “Why is that thing here?”

“I don’t know,” panted El. “But it’s dangerous, and I think the safeties have been disengaged.”

“What?  _ Why is that even a thing that can happen?!” _

“I don’t know!” snapped El. “Just keep running.” 

They went off across the frozen landscape with the thing on their heels. “Computer, terminate program!” Kali called as they ran. Nothing happened. “Computer, exit!” Nothing. “Administrator override Kali-zero-zero-eight-kalpa!” Nothing. They were trapped.

The ground thudded beneath El’s feet, and she could hear the lazy impacts of the thing’s feet as it loped along behind them. It was toying with them, she realized grimly. With the length of its stride, it could catch up to them without even trying, and yet it was giving them a chance to run…

A sudden flash of movement, up ahead. El stopped short, planting herself in a fighting stance, but the figure moved past her and Kali--she only caught a blur of yellow, the same color as her uniform, as it rushed at the thing chasing them. The figure reached out with a single hand, planting it squarely in the thing’s chest. “Nope!” said a cheerful and oddly familiar voice, and then the thing flashed white and faded into nothingness, the signs of an object being erased from the holodeck.

Kali said something in Hindi that El took to be either an expletive, an expression of bewilderment, or both. Now that the figure had stopped moving, she had a better look at it, from the back at least. It was humanoid and looked likely to be  _ human, _ with a Starfleet uniform in operations yellow and a curtain of brown hair that fell to the base of its neck. “Who are you?” El asked, stepping forward.

The figure turned, and El blinked as she found herself looking at…  _ herself. _

She had perhaps a second to process this before there was another rush of movement and she found herself swept up in a crushing bear hug. The other El let out a squeal of delight that El found  _ extremely  _ disconcerting to hear in her voice. “This is so exciting!” the other El said breathlessly. “I can’t believe we finally have the chance to meet like this!”

Kali was gaping at them off to the side. “What… the… hell…?” she said. “El… why is there  _ two _ of you?!”

“Oh, I’m not El!” the other El said cheerfully, stepping back out of the hug (El sucked in a grateful breath as the pressure on her ribcage disappeared). “I just needed to come up with a physical form quickly, and El’s my favorite, so I picked her.”

“Your favorite…?” El asked slowly, massaging at the sore spot where the thing from before had struck her. “What are you, and what exactly makes me your ‘favorite’?”

The other El’s face pulled into a pout. “You really don’t know? But you play with me all the time! You’re the one who’s been taking care of me ever since I started living on the  _ Hawkins…” _

Kali swallowed. “Oh.”

“Oh,” El repeated. “...Athaclena?!”

“Yep!” The other El--Athaclena--bounced forward and El held up a hand to ward off another bear hug. “Well, I could hardly let that nasty thing get you,” Athaclena added as it stepped back. “You two have been so nice to me--I’d be so sad if something happened to you!”

“Speaking of, what  _ was _ that thing?” Kali asked. “It definitely wasn’t part of my program.”

“I’ve got a nasty feeling that I know what it is,” El said. “What I really want to know is, how is it here?”

“Dunno on either account,” Athaclena said, shrugging. “I’ve had the feeling that something was  _ off _ about the ship’s systems for a little while now, but I didn’t realize what until it made its move.”

El shook her head. “Answers can wait. Athaclena, can you communicate with the rest of the  _ Hawkins? _ Get help from somebody outside the holodeck?”

“I already did,” Athaclena said. “...oh. Oops. I guess you want to talk to him, don’t you? Here, the nasty thing blocked communications, let me just…”

_ “...Byers to Hopper and Prasad!” _ Will’s voice, sounding desperate and frustrated.  _ “For the last time, do you copy?!” _

“We copy!” El called, looking up at the sky for lack of a better point of visual reference. “Will, we copy, we’re both here and we’re both okay!”

_ “Oh, thank--” _ Will let out a deep sigh.  _ “Mike, I’ve got them, they’re both okay.” _

Knowing that Mike was aware and paying attention to their situation didn’t make much difference in practical terms, but El found herself deeply relieved regardless. “We seem to be trapped in the holodeck, and…” She drew in a deep breath. “I think the shadow entity from the In-Between is here, somehow.”

_ “It is,”  _ replied Will.  _ “Fucking thing got into our systems, no idea how it’s doing it. But I’m guessing it found a way to hop over from that research station when we ran into it there. Explains why my flashbacks have been so intense lately--I must’ve been pinging its presence on the ship without realizing it.” _

El’s heart squeezed sympathetically. “Are you going to be okay?”

_ “You’re worried about me?” _ That actually drew a laugh from Will, but when he spoke again his voice had an edge to it.  _ “I’ll be better than okay, El. This thing used my body like a puppet to hurt my friends… fine, I’ll have to live with those memories. But there is no way, no  _ ** _fucking_ ** _ way, I’m letting it have my ship.” _

“How are things looking on that front, commander?” Kali put in.

_ “...slow. It’s locked down the entire deck you’re on, so we can’t get in without cutting through the hull. And it’s slippery, shifting itself around too much for me to get a lock on it and blast it out of our systems the way we did with the station.” _ Will let out another heavy sigh.  _ “Just hang tight. We’ll take care of it and get you out of there, I promise. Byers out.” _

“Somehow I get the feeling this thing’s not going to just let us ‘hang tight’,” El muttered.

“With you on that one,” Kali agreed. “Do you think there’s a way for us to deal with it from in here?”

“Maybe…” El’s gaze landed on Athaclena.

Athaclena perked up, grinning at El with her own face. “Ooo, is there something I can do?”

“Well, first things first…” El grimaced. “Do you mind taking a different form? This is just too weird for me.”

Athaclena’s face fell; its eyes flicked over to Kali.

_ “No,” _ Kali said pointedly.

“Fine,” Athaclena said, pouting. “Oh, I know. How about…” Its outline shimmered, and then quite suddenly Mike was standing there instead. “Here, this one’s okay, isn’t it?” The effect of Mike’s voice speaking with Athaclena’s over-eager tone was, if anything, even more jarring.

El felt her face heating up. “No,” she said.

Athaclena frowned. “Why not?” it asked. “I thought you really liked this one.”

_ “No! _ I mean, I do, but--no, that’s not--it’s just--just, no!” El felt her blush grow even fiercer as Kali snickered. “Look, don’t use any personnel from the  _ Hawkins, _ all right? It’s rude to take somebody’s likeness without asking permission first. Can’t you pull something from the holodeck’s memory?”

Athaclena looked thoughtful for the moment, and then its form shimmered and shifted again, this time becoming a large dog with shaggy fur, coming up to El’s hip. “How’s this?” it asked, and the voice it has chosen was mid-pitched, ambiguous in age.

“Better,” El said.

“Apt, even,” Kali added.

“I know! Wait a sec, watch this…” Athaclena wagged its tail and panted, managing to look convincingly doglike as it did so. “Eh? Eh?”

“That’s very nice,” El said, unable to keep a smile from creeping across her face.

_ “Byers to Hopper and Prasad,” _ Will’s voice cut in.  _ “We’ve got some kind of activity here--not sure what, but I think our visitor is on the move.” _

“It is,” Kali said. “El, look.” El looked, and she saw what Kali was indicating: far away, the grass was beginning to die, growing sickly and bent as some kind of withered black organic substance sprouted over it, forming a crisscrossing web. The phenomenon was moving towards them in a slow, ominous wave.

“Right,” El said. “Will, I’m assuming that if we pin it down somehow, you’ll be able to purge it from the  _ Hawkins’ _ systems?”

_ “Pretty easily,” _ Will affirmed.  _ “Why, do you have a plan?” _

“Not yet, but I’m working on it. Any chance you can wrestle control of the program away from it?”

_ “Tall order--I’m still stuck at square one trying to figure out how it’s interfacing with our systems in the first place. I won’t be able to do much until I crack that one--right now Athaclena’s going to be more effective at fighting it than I am.” _

“Got it. Keep at it, and we’ll do what we can from in here. Hopper out.” El turned to Kali and Athaclena. “We need to move.”

They moved, keeping at a brisk walk in an effort to stay ahead of the oncoming corruption. “Athaclena,” Kali said as they went. “Can you give me access to the holodeck’s controls?”

“Yep!” Athaclena yipped. “Though I should warn you, the nasty thing’s liable to mess with anything that you try to do.”

“That’s fine, I think I’m starting to understand how it works. As something portable, please.” With a shimmer, a datapad appeared in Kali’s hand.

“Something in mind?” El asked, casting a wary glance over her shoulder. The wave of rot was still following them.

“Kind of,” Kali replied, fiddling with the pad. “See, first it manifested a physical form to attack us, and now it’s coming at us by twisting the existing program. It might be messing with stuff, but it’s still fundamentally playing by the holodeck’s rules--I think whatever method of interfacing it’s using means that it  _ has _ to.”

“And so you’re changing the rules?” El asked.

“Yep,” Kali said. “First off, all this open space is giving it a lot of angles to attack us from--let’s try limiting its options a bit, shall we?” She entered a series of commands on the pad, and a massive object suddenly erupted from the ground in front of them. It was a tower, tall and imposing, hewn from solid black obsidian with rivulets of lava flowing down its face in deeply gouged channels.

“Whoa,” Athaclena said.

El lifted an eyebrow. “That’s… ominous,” she said.

“It’s from another program I made,” Kali said. “I don’t exactly have the time to program new assets from scratch here. Come on, let’s go.”

They entered through a massive portcullis; the interior of the tower was taken up by a spiral staircase that wound up into the darkened heights. “Up!” Kali said, and the three of them began to climb.

“You really think this will slow it down?” El asked as they went.

“Maybe?” Kali replied. “Probably. If nothing else, it’ll have to stop and change up its approach, which will buy us at least a little bit of time.”

El cast her gaze upward. “And when we get to the top and have nowhere left to run?”

“I can fix that. I can make a bridge, or a flying cloud for us to ride on… or I could just keep increasing the height of the tower. If I do that enough, it’d eventually crash the holodeck--maybe that’d throw it for a loop.”

“I get the feeling we’d pass out from exertion before we hit that point,” El said. “Plus, there’s the risk that it might hurt Athaclena as well.”

Athaclena whined softly.

“In any event, running doesn’t get us anywhere,” El continued. “At best, we’re just stalling indefinitely and hoping that Will eventually figures out a solution.”

“You have something else in mind?”

“Will can purge it if we get it to sit still long enough. It’s on guard against that right now, but if we can bait it with something it wants…”

Kali raised an eyebrow. “So how do we figure out what it wants?”

“Oh, that’s easy.” El smiled ruefully. “I was present on both occasions we previously dealt with it, interfering with it directly, and it knows that. I’m pretty sure it’s coming specifically for  _ me.” _

A brief pause. “So you’re proposing to use yourself as bait,” Kali said.

“Basically.”

“I recognize that you outrank me, but I would like to register an objection to this  _ very stupid  _ course of action nonetheless.”

“Objection noted.” El tapped her combadge. “Will, I think I’ve figured out a way to pin this thing down,” she said.

_ “Please tell me this doesn’t involve using yourself as bait,” _ he said.

Well, that was infuriatingly perceptive of him. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to disappoint you.”

_ “Mike’s going to kill me.” _

“Mike can deal,” El replied evenly. “I’m the one in danger, it’s my call.” The stairs wound up to an opening in the top of the tower, and they emerged onto a platform at its top. Around them, a massive portion of the grass at the base of the tower had withered into sickliness.

“Oh, yikes,” Athaclena said, peering over the edge. El joined it in looking down; if the tower had slowed down the shadow entity at any point, it had fully recovered and was currently winding its way up the side in the form of black, reaching veins.

“Okay,” El said, stepping back. “I’ll be occupying its attention. Kali, Athaclena, I need you two to do everything you can to hem it in while I’m doing that. Will, stand by and look for your opportunity.”

“You’re sure about this, El?” Kali asked.

“Yes,” El lied. The black, veiny growth sprouted up and over the edge of the platform, pausing for a moment as it reared up like a snake. Despite its lack of eyes, El got the distinct impression that it was looking at her.

_ I am the master of my mind, _ she said to herself, repeating words she’d been taught in her childhood.  _ I am the sovereign of my domain. I will brook no influence or intruder. I will-- _

The veins lunged for her.

She was standing alone in a dark void. No, not alone--the shadow entity’s presence was palpable, despite its lack of visual manifestation. “Well?” she said. “You’ve got me. I’m right here, what are you waiting for?”

Laughter, familiar, but oddly cold. She turned in the direction of the sound--nothing, a misdirect--then turned back.

Mike was standing in front of her.

“Hello, El,” he said in a voice that was Mike’s and a tone that was everything Mike was not--callous, manipulative, sadistic. He stepped towards El, one hand reaching to stroke her cheek.

She raised an eyebrow at him. “This is your play? No. I don’t think so.” She reached out intangibly, space rippled and bent with her will-- _ was _ her will--and the thing wearing Mike’s face reeled under the assault, its form warping and twisting until it had resolved into something new: the mottled, gangly creature that had attacked El and Kali earlier.

“Better,” she said. “I much prefer dealing with your true face… so to speak.” The creature snarled and hissed at her, but it was distinctly cowed, crouching in a defensive posture as if afraid another assault could come at any moment. Not without reason. “You’re weak, aren’t you?” El asked. “A mere fragment of what we faced before. Arrogant of you, to think you could take me on in such a diminished state.”

The creature growled and lunged at her, lightning-quick, its long, bony hand coming in to strike her. They weren’t playing by the rules of the physical world, though, or even the rules of the holodeck; El caught the incoming limb by the wrist, caught the other as it flicked out in a follow-up attack. Here, will was strength.

_ “Meat-thing,” _ the creature said in a guttural, rasping voice.  _ “Pathetic. Worthless.  _ ** _Mine._ ** _ ” _

“If we’re so worthless,” El replied through a grin of gritted teeth, “why do you care so much about possessing us?”

The creature snarled again, and strength surged through its limbs; El had to brace herself to avoid being forced to the ground.  _ “Weak!” _ it spat.  _ “Weak, weak, weak, weak, weak weak! You are  _ ** _weak_ ** _ ! You will  _ ** _submit_ ** _ !” _

A distant glow began to suffuse the void around them, and the creature’s head snapped up in alarm, looking towards its source. El let out a breathless laugh. “The thing is,” she said, “if it was just me, you might have won. You assumed I was the only threat, didn’t you? More arrogance. Too bad you won’t survive to pass that lesson on to the rest of you…”

The glow grew into a blazing brightness. El closed her eyes, bathing in its warmth as it enveloped them, and she heard the creature shriek in agony and terror.

- - -

Mike was looking spectacularly haggard, sitting on the other side of his desk, and El couldn’t help but feel sorry for him even though she was the one who had just been in mortal danger.

“Well,” he sighed, setting down the datapad he’d been reviewing. “Doctor Ouvens is giving you a clean bill--he can’t detect any traces of the entity in your body. There might be amounts too small to detect, like what seems to be the case with Will, but since it didn’t get as deep into you as it got into him…”

El nodded. “I did my own… let’s call it introspection, just to be sure. I’m confident that the entity didn’t manage to get a foothold in my psyche.”

Mike nodded too, more slowly. “That’s… okay, that’s good.” His expression softened, concern radiating out through the mask of weariness. “And… are you doing okay, otherwise?”

“Better than okay,” El said. “I’m glad.”

“Glad?” Mike blinked.

“Yes, glad. We know now that the entity is capable of possessing complex electronic systems in addition to biological systems. And the fact that it went out of its way to target me suggests that I pose a credible threat to it.” El shrugged. “Gaining critical intelligence with no cost in casualties? That reads to me as an unqualified win.”

“I guess so,” Mike agreed reluctantly. He blew out a deep sigh. “In any case, we’ve set up security protocols in the  _ Hawkins’ _ systems to guard against future intrusions from the entity. And Will seems to be able to sense when it’s in proximity, so we’ll do a deep scan of the ship any time he starts displaying symptoms of that.”

“I think I’ve gotten enough of a read on it that I should be able to sense its presence without much trouble as well,” El said. “I can assist in keeping the ship on guard against it.”

Mike’s lips pursed. “That’s… not really necessary…”

“Any additional layer of security that we can add, should be added,” El countered. “Not just for the ship’s sake, but for mine as well. The  _ Hawkins _ has always been… well, a place where I can feel safe,” she added in response to the question in Mike’s eyes. “I want it to stay that way.”

“I see. Very well, just--”

“--don’t push myself too hard?”

Mike grimaced. “Great, now  _ I’m _ the one who’s getting predictable.”

“Predictable, but appreciated,” El said, smiling. “Will you be free later tonight?”

“Well, I’ve got one hell of a report to write for Starfleet Command… but yeah, I’ll be able to make some time. Dismissed, and I’ll see you later, El.”

“See you later, Mike.” El rose from her chair. Mike’s eyes were on her as she crossed the room, walked through the door, and exited down the hallway, and they lingered on the door as it closed behind her. They lingered for a long time, lost in thought.

Finally, Mike spoke, a single word said to the empty room.

“Shit.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note: I'm traveling this week to visit family for the holidays and may or may not have the time to get my usual amount of writing done. I'll give it a shot, but I might end up having to skip next weekend's update and post it the following weekend. Happy holidays to all of my awesome readers, and thank you for your support!


	18. Inspection

Captain Mike Wheeler was in his office, very diligently getting nothing whatsoever done.

He stared hard at the wall opposite his desk, as though scrutinizing it for flaws. When that activity lost its luster, he took to spinning himself in his chair, first one way and then the other, sending himself easily back and forth and then all the way around. For a bit of variety, he stopped and grabbed his pen, tossed it up in the air and caught it a couple of times, then returned it to his usual spot on his desk.

The whole time he was doing all this, he was working furiously to get his thoughts in order.

It shouldn’t have been hard in theory. It was a problem to be solved, and  _ damn it, _ he was  _ good _ at solving problems--that was how he’d made captain so young. Yet every time he thought he’d arrived at a solution, a fresh wave of overwhelming anxiety washed him back to square one, and he was going over the angles all over again. There had to be a way forward. There  _ had _ to be a way forward. There had to--

No, this wasn’t working. He needed help, and there were only a couple of people on the  _ Hawkins _ he could trust with this. His hand went to his combadge. “Wheeler to Sinclair and Mayfield,” he said.

_ “Yeah, we’re both here, Mike,” _ Lucas’s voice responded. He and Max were currently off-duty, hence the informality.  _ “What’s up?” _

Mike swallowed. “If it’s not too much trouble… would it be possible for the two of you to meet me in my office?”

A pause.  _ “Is everything okay?” _ Lucas asked, sounding worried.

“Mostly,” Mike replied. “I need some help with a… personal matter.”

_ “I… see,” _ Lucas said.  _ “Okay, we’ll be up there in a few minutes.” _

Said few minutes passed restlessly, until finally the entry chime rang. “Enter,” Mike called, and the door slid open to admit Lucas and Max. Mike indicated the seats in front of his desk, and they sat, looking distinctly worried--not for themselves, but for  _ him. _ That was fair; he was sure his behavior looked bizarre from the outside.

“What’s all this about, Mike?” Max asked.

“I, um.” Mike nervously nudged himself back and forth in his chair, looked up at the ceiling, back down at his friends. This was a tipping point--until now, everything had been safely contained in his head. If he said it out loud now, to them, it became  _ real, _ something he actually needed to deal with. “I,” he continued, forging ahead, “I think… well, I’m starting to get the sense that I am developing, um… well, romantic feelings. For Lieutenant Hopper.”

They both stared at him.

He stared back at them.

Finally, Lucas turned to Max and said, “I  _ told _ you he’d figure it out himself.”

“Months, Lucas!” Max replied, throwing her hands up in the air. “It’s been  _ months!” _

“Whoa, wait, back that up,” Mike said, blinking.  _ “What?!” _

“Mike,” Lucas sighed, leaning forward and fixing him with a look. “Look, I love you man, but you are  _ spectacularly _ dense about these things.”

“Everybody’s noticed the way you and El are around each other, Mike,” Max added.  _ “Ev-rey-bo-dy.” _

Mike put his fingers to his temple as his face began to burn. “Oh, for--and  _ how _ long have these… these rumors about us been going around?”

“Uh, basically since we set out, Mike,” Max said.

“Well,” Lucas put in, “I don’t know that I’d say  _ that, _ but definitely since that space jellyfish thing sent you into a psychic fuge, and she pulled you back out of it. That was when everybody began noticing your… chemistry.”

“Chemistry,” Mike repeated, pinching the bridge of his nose. “So like you said… months.”

“Long, agonizing months,” Lucas agreed. “I can’t tell you how frustrating it’s been, watching the impressively intricate way you’ve managed to dance around the way you feel about her.”

“Tell me about it,” Max sighed. “I’ve been prodding El so much about the way  _ she _ feels about Mike--”

Mike’s head snapped up. “Wait,  _ what?!” _

“--and I definitely shouldn’t have said that,” Max finished sheepishly. “There goes my mouth again.”

Mike leaned heavily onto his elbows, his hands cupping over his face, his heart suddenly racing. If he was understanding his friends’ words correctly--and despite how much he might wish otherwise, he knew he was--then El reciprocated his feelings, to some extent. That wasn’t a possibility that he’d seriously considered--that he’d  _ allowed _ himself to seriously consider. It introduced so many more variables to the situation, made the potential outcomes so much more complex--

“Lucas, he’s panicking,” Max said, sounding disconcerted. “Am I missing something here?”

“Yeah,” Lucas sighed. “The part where the prospect of a relationship with El being a realistic possibility makes it infinitely more terrifying.”

Max’s expression scrunched up. “Oh, wow, this is a bigger mess than I realized.” She let out a long breath, then leaned forward in her chair and leveled a serious gaze at Mike. “Look, Mike,” she said. “You told me before that you haven’t really had any romantic relationships since leaving the academy, is that right?”

In the midst of his panic, Mike was somehow able to summon enough coherency to respond with a nod. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I never really had the chance.”

“Uh-huh.” Max looked skeptical. “You’re  _ sure _ it’s not because you’ve been actively  _ avoiding _ it? Like, say, because of what happened between you and Will?”

A jolt of irritation surged through Mike, enough to momentarily override his other feelings. “No!” he snapped, straightening up. “It’s got nothing to do with that. I just… didn’t want anything to distract me from my duties, that’s all.”

“And the fact that you view romance as inherently distracting,” Lucas said, “has  _ nothing _ at all to do with the fact that your relationship with Will blew up in your face right in the home stretch of the academy?”

Mike’s lips twitched into a scowl. “That was ten years ago, Lucas. It’s ancient history.”

“It’s  _ not _ ancient history if you’re still holding onto it, man,” Lucas persisted. “Look, just… think about it, all right? We’re not about to tell you how to live your life here. I’m just saying that you and El have the possibility of having something really nice together, and it’d be a shame for you to miss out on that just because you’re scared.”

Mike glared at him, but his irritation was beginning to ebb and he couldn’t keep the expression up. “I suppose bringing up the fraternization angle is kind of pointless, given what the two of you have been up to lately.”

“Oh yes.” Max grinned. “We’ve been fraternizing the  _ hell _ out of each other.”

Lucas shot her a look that was equal parts annoyance and amusement. “I won’t pretend that it’s a non-issue, or even a particularly simple one,” he said. “But we figured it out, and I think that the two of you can too.”

Mike took a breath to say something in response, but it was at that exact moment that his combadge chimed.  _ “Hayes to Captain Wheeler.” _

Mike frowned. Hayes was the backup operations officer, covering El’s job when she was off-duty. “Wheeler here,” he replied. “What is it?”

_ “We’ve gotten a communique from Starfleet Command,” _ Hayes said.  _ “New orders. Apparently Admiral Hopper wants us to come in to Starbase 715 for an inspection.” _

Oh. “Uh, copy that,” Mike said. “Send a reply saying our orders are received and understood, and have the helm set a course to Starbase 715.”

_ “Understood, sir. Hayes out.” _

Mike’s hand dropped from his combadge to his lap, and he shared a stunned look with Lucas and Max.

_ “Admiral _ Hopper,” Lucas said.

“El’s father,” Mike said.

“Somehow, I  _ completely _ forgot about that part,” Max said.

- - -

The  _ Hawkins’ _ airlock hissed slightly as it slid open. Flanked by most of his senior staff (Max and Lucas to his right, El and Dustin to his left), Mike straightened up slightly. “Welcome aboard the  _ Hawkins, _ sir,” he said.

“Thank you, captain,” replied Admiral Hopper. “At ease.” He still cut an imposing figure, even with his admiral’s uniform slightly askew, and Mike had to fight to keep himself from swallowing visibly as his gaze swept over them, right to left. “Good to see you again, Lieutenant Hopper,” Hopper added, smiling slightly as his eyes landed on El.

“Good to see you as well, Admiral Hopper,” El replied, smiling back. The affection in their voices was so blatant that it rendered their usage of formal ranks almost ironic, and Mike felt the ghost of a smile pass over his face as well.

Hopper, however, frowned slightly as his gaze made another pass, this one left to right. “Commander Byers isn’t available?” he asked.

“Not at the moment, sir--something came up in Engineering that he had to deal with,” Mike replied. “He should be arriving momentarily.”

“Oh, well, that’s good,” said another voice, female and maddeningly familiar.

Mike’s gaze slid past Hopper, landing on a smaller figure standing behind him in the airlock, and he blinked in surprise. “Mrs. Byers?!”

“What?!” The exclamation came simultaneously from Lucas, Max, and Dustin, making El start slightly at the outburst.

Joyce Byers slid around Hopper’s bulk into clearer view. “Hey there, kids,” she said, flashing them a sunny smile. “Oh, sorry--I suppose I shouldn’t be calling you ‘kids’ anymore, huh?”

Mike grinned. “You get to call us whatever you want, Mrs. Byers.”

“Okay.” Joyce leaned in and her tone turned conspiratorial. “I probably should wait to hug you all until you’re not standing on duty, though, right?”

“That should probably wait until later, yeah,” Lucas agreed with a laugh.

“All right, but I’ll hold you to it.” Joyce turned to El. “You must be Hopper’s daughter. I’m Joyce, Commander Byers’--”

“--Will’s mother, yes, I gathered,” El finished with a smile. “It’s nice to meet you--though I didn’t realize that you knew my father?” she added, raising an eyebrow.

“As of about twenty minutes ago,” Hopper said. “We met on the dock while we were waiting for the  _ Hawkins _ to come in. Turns out she’s good for a bit of intelligent conversation--something that can be sorely lacking around the Starfleet offices.”

Joyce grinned, looking slightly bashful, El rolled her eyes, and everybody laughed and settled into a bit of idle chatter. The sound of a turbolift down the hall drew Mike’s attention, and he turned his head to see Will emerging, head bent and nose buried in a datapad no doubt detailing some engineering issue or other that he was dealing with. Following the direction of Mike’s gaze, Joyce turned as well and waved enthusiastically at her son. “Will! Hi, honey!” Will’s head snapped up at the sound of his name--

\--and he visibly  _ flinched _ when he saw his mother.

Mike’s stomach dropped. Of course. The last time Will had seen his mother’s face had been when the shadow entity had used it to invade his mind. If he’d only  _ remembered _ that, thought to  _ warn _ Will that his mother had unexpectedly shown up…

“Will?” Excitement had given way to concern in Joyce’s expression.

“Uh, hey,” Will replied, trying not to seem rattled as he pulled himself back together. “Hey, mom. I, uh, didn’t know that you were going to be here.”

“Well, it’s less than a day’s travel away, so I thought…” Joyce trailed off. “Will, honey, is everything okay?”

“Fine,” Will said. “Everything’s fine. I was just… surprised.”

As long as Mike had known her, Joyce had never been fooled by any of them trying to hide their feelings from her. “Mike, is it okay if I borrow my son for a few minutes?” she asked.

Mike glanced over at Will, who was giving him a frantic, plaintive look in return. “At the moment,” he began slowly. “I think with the inspection going on--”

“I only need you for that, captain,” Hopper said. He was looking critically at Mike and his staff, all of whom had obvious concern written on their faces. “In fact, it’s probably a good idea for the rest of your staff to go about their duties. I’ll call for them if I need to talk to them.”

So much for that out. “Understood, sir,” Mike sighed. “Everyone, dismissed.” The group split and began to drift towards the turbolift, Joyce trailing behind Will and saying something that Mike couldn’t quite make out.

Hopper watched them disperse with an impassive expression. “Is that something I should be worried about?” he asked.

“No, sir,” Mike replied heavily. “That is, I’d characterize it as  _ mostly _ a personal issue… except that it stems from Commander Byers’ encounter in the interstitial dimensional space--that is, the In-Between.”

“Which is classified,” Hopper said. “I see.” His moustache twitched as he pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Technically, since you were the one who declared it classified, you have the authority to clear her for it…”

“Even if I did, I’m not sure that Will would want to talk to her about it,” Mike said. “To be blunt, she gets a little overbearing when she’s worried, and he doesn’t like being treated like he’s fragile.”

“Well, you know their relationship better than I do,” Hopper said, shrugging. “Still, if it were my daughter, I’d want to know if there was a threat to her well-being.”

A surge of guilt shot through Mike. He and El had agreed that she should be the one to fill Hopper in about  _ that, _ but even so… “Should we start the inspection at the bridge, then, sir?” he asked, changing the subject just a bit too forcefully.

“That makes the most sense,” Hopper agreed, giving no indication that he’d noticed. As they began to walk towards the turbolift, he added, “So, captain. Now that you’ve been on mission for the better part of a year… how are you feeling about your staff?”

“I couldn’t ask for a better one, sir,” Mike said as they stepped inside. “Bridge.” The turbolift vibrated slightly as it began to move.

“I see.” A glint had appeared in Hopper’s eye. “And that would include your operations officer?”

Mike took a deep breath, trying to fight down the flush he could feel creeping up the back of his neck. “Lieutenant Hopper’s performance has been nothing less than exemplary, sir. I would even use the word  _ extraordinary. _ She’s an excellent Starfleet officer.”

“That’s good,” Hopper chuckled. “Because I seem to remember, when I first assigned her to your ship, that you had some concerns about nepotism…”

Now the flush had made its way onto Mike’s face. “That’s--” he began, trying in vain to speak around a tangled tongue. “I mean--I was--”

“Relax, captain, I’m just winding you up,” Hopper said, with an infuriatingly smug grin. “Please indulge the japes of an old man who’s proud of his daughter.”

“Of course, sir,” Mike sighed.

- - -

“Will,” Joyce called from behind him.

Will’s insides lurched with a chaotic blend of emotions--mostly guilt, though. “Mom, I’ve got a bunch of things I should be taking care of,” he said without looking back at her, trying to keep his voice steady. “Especially with the inspection going on.”

“Will,” she repeated, quieter and so plaintive that it nearly tore his heart in two.

He took a deep breath and turned to face her. “It’s okay, mom. I’m okay. There’s nothing you need to worry about.”

She studied his face with that intense scrutiny of hers, like she was trying to see through it into his mind. “And I haven’t done anything wrong?” she asked.

Oh. “No!” Will said urgently. “Mom, it’s wonderful to see you, it  _ really _ is, and you haven’t done anything. This thing, it’s…” He swallowed, licked his lips. “Look. I can’t really explain, but something happened, something that has nothing to do with you. I’m sorting through it, that’s all.”

“But  _ what?” _ Joyce persisted. “That’s what’s troubling me so much, Will--why won’t you tell me what happened?”

“I… can’t,” sighed Will. “It’s classified.”

Joyce’s expression went blank for a moment, then hardened into a mask. “I see.”

Will gently placed a hand on her shoulder. “Look… my shift’s going to be over at 1600 hours. Why don’t we meet up in the canteen? We can have dinner together, catch up a bit…”

Joyce nodded slowly. “Yeah, that sounds… that sounds good.” She stepped forward and pulled Will into a hug. “I love you, baby,” she murmured into his ear. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, mom,” Will said.

Stepping out of the embrace, Joyce turned on her heel and took off down the hallway with a purposeful stride. Will almost called after her to ask where she was going, but he had a feeling that he already knew the answer.

- - -

“So these are your quarters?” Hopper asked, looking around. “I see that your taste for minimalism hasn’t changed.”

“It’s  _ functional, _ dad,” sighed El, rolling her eyes. “Weren’t you the one who taught me the virtues of keeping your personal space streamlined?”

“Yes, but I’m not fulfilling my duties as your father unless I’m fussing over you, so I had to pick  _ something.” _ Hopper sat on the edge of her bed, an irritatingly familiar twinkle in his eye. “It  _ is _ good to see you again, El.”

El couldn’t help but smile. “It’s good to see you too, dad. Can I replicate anything for you?”

“A glass of synthale would be nice.”

“I might have guessed.” El crossed over to her room’s replicator nook. “Synthale, cold. And Tarkalean tea, hot.”

“So, how is the shipboard life treating you?” Hopper asked as she returned with their beverages. “Your captain treating you well? No problems with him, I hope?”

El handed him his synthale and sat next to him on the bed, sipping at her tea. “If I had any problems with him, I would report them through the proper channels,” she replied primly. “You’re not asking me to go over his head, are you?”

“Oh, I’m not asking as a Starfleet admiral,” Hopper said. He took a swig of his drink. “No, I’m asking as a father who’s concerned for his daughter.”

“Well, there’s nothing to be concerned about in any event,” El said. “Mike’s an excellent captain. He’s intelligent, and thoughtful, and kind, and funny--”

“You’re using a lot of adjectives to describe your commanding officer, dear,” Hopper said mildly, raising an eyebrow as he took another swig.

El felt her face heat up. “Well, I stand by all of them,” she replied.

“Hm,” Hopper replied, as though what she’d said had clarified something. Rather than follow up on it, though, he continued, “Is something else bothering you, though? You just seem a little bit… preoccupied, is all.”

El  _ was _ preoccupied, with the question of how to start the conversation she knew she had to have with him here. How did one even make that transition?  _ “So anyway, it turns out there’s a secret black ops organization hidden in the Federation, and they’ve taken an interest in me…” _ She shook her head. Awkward though it might be, this would be her only chance to talk to her father in person for some time, the only chance to have the conversation without risking somebody intercepting a transmission. “Athaclena, how’s the view?” she asked.

_ “No bugs embedded in the ship’s systems,” _ Athaclena replied over the speakers that normally provided the voice of the  _ Hawkins’ _ computer.  _ “Jamming any external listening devices. Room’s secure, El.” _

“Athaclena? Isn’t that your…?” Hopper frowned. “El, what’s this about?”

“Dad…” El turned and looked him square in the eyes. “There’s something I need to tell you about.”

And she told him everything about Section 31, from their involvement in Ambassador Mawhrin’s death, to their theft of Mike’s files on her and her abilities, to their interest in the In-Between and the incident on the possessed station. By the time she finished, Hopper had a look of open horror on his face.

“I can’t… that’s just…  _ shit,” _ he said. “And they’re after  _ you?” _

“Maybe,” El said. “This Brenner person seems to have taken a personal interest, at any rate.”

Hopper’s expression turned thunderous. “Have you had any luck tracking him down?”

“No.” El sighed and shook her head. “We’ve been keeping our eyes open, of course, but there’s only so much we can do--Section 31’s almost certainly keeping an eye on the  _ Hawkins _ and everything it’s sending and receiving. We have to play it extremely cautious if we want to avoid tipping our hand. That’s why I had to wait until now to tell you.”

“Of course.” Hopper’s hand moved, coming to rest lightly on her knee. “You have a compilation of data on this Section 31?”

El nodded. “Doctor Ouvens keeps it--he has the most experience with their methods and knows how to counter them. I can make sure that a copy gets into your hands before this inspection is over.”

“Do so.” There was a fire in Hopper’s eyes now. “I have ways of looking into things, ways that don’t involve official Starfleet channels. Those bastards aren’t laying a finger on my girl.”

“I’m still ‘your girl’ then?” El asked with a small smile. “Even when I’m out flying around the galaxy?”

“Always.” Hopper leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

There was a ring from the entry chime.

“Come in,” El called. The door slid open, revealing Mike. “Hello there, captain,” El said, beaming. “Which Hopper are you here for?”

“Both, I suppose.” Mike took a step into the room and crossed his arms. “How’s the view?”

“Secure,” El replied. “And yes, I just told him.”

“And I intend to throw my weight behind your pursuit,” Hopper said. “You told me once that you take the safety of your crew seriously, captain. I could tell that you meant it, but I had no idea how much.”

Mike shrugged. “It’s not just the safety of my crew, it’s the integrity of the Federation itself. And besides…” His gaze drifted over to El.

She frowned. “‘Besides’ what?”

Any answer Mike would’ve made to that was cut off by Athaclena speaking.  _ “Hey, um, captain?”  _ it said.  _ “You know that other person who was visiting… Commander Byers’ mom, wasn’t she?” _

“Yes, what about her?”

_ “Well, she’s going to be at the door in just over ten seconds. And based on her vitals, she’s pretty upset.” _

Mike only had time to let out a deflated “Oh--” before the entry chime rang.

_ “Mike? I know you’re in there, I’ve been looking all over the ship for you. We need to talk!” _

El looked at Mike, who nodded slightly. “Come in,” she said, and the door opened to admit Joyce.

“What’s going on with my son, Mike? And don’t you dare say the word ‘classified’!” she added as Mike opened his mouth to speak. “Will already said he couldn’t tell me what happened, and since you’re the one in charge around here, I’m guessing that came from you.”

“Look, ma’am--” Hopper began to say.

“Don’t ‘ma’am’ me, you oaf!” Joyce snapped. “I know you Starfleet Command types like keeping your secrets for, for ‘security’ or whatever excuses you want to give. But my son is suffering right in front of me, and I can’t help him because I don’t know why. How would you feel if it was your daughter?!”

Mike turned to Hopper with an expression of abject horror, but to his surprise Hopper actually looked  _ impressed. _ “I think it’s best that I stay out of this one,” Hopper said. “Captain, I’ve spoken my piece on the matter already--this one’s in your hands.” His expression was  _ far _ too amused.

Mike blew out a breath. He was the one in charge around here, huh? He’d never felt less in charge of the  _ Hawkins _ than he felt caught between Mrs. Byers and Admiral Hopper. “Okay,” he sighed. “The secret’s already leaked out anyway, so I don’t suppose there’s much risk in letting you know. Just… promise me you’ll respect it if he doesn’t want to talk through it all, okay? It was really hard for him, and he doesn’t like feeling fragile.”

Joyce’s mouth quivered slightly as her lips pressed together into a hard line. “I know,” she sighed at last, letting her gaze drop to the ground.

“I mean, I had to pull rank on him to get him to take time off to recover,” Mike added wryly.

Joyce let out a snort of laughter. “Yeah, that sounds like him.”

Just like that, the tension in the room had melted into something much more open and comfortable. Mike took a glance back at El and Hopper, who were looking at him with polite attentiveness even though they both knew the story already. “Okay,” he said. “It started with this experiment Dustin was running…”

- - -

Will had found a solitary table in the  _ Hawkins _ canteen and was thoughtfully nursing a raktajino. He smiled and nodded briefly as other crew members greeted him on their way past, but his manner made it clear that he was not particularly in the mood for company.

Or at least, he was only in the mood for very specific company.

“Hey,” Joyce said, smiling as she pulled up a seat at his table. “Anybody sitting here?”

“You are, now,” Will said, smiling back.

“Well, I’m honored that my company is acceptable to you.” Joyce slid a hand across the table, resting it on top of the hand of Will’s that wasn’t currently occupied with his raktajino mug. “How are you doing? You look tired. Mike makes it sound like you’re running yourself ragged.”

“There’s a lot to do if we don’t want the ship falling out of the sky.” Will eyed her thoughtfully. “What about you? You’re looking… well, less upset than you were when we parted earlier.”

Joyce shrugged. “I got the answers I was looking for.”

“I see.” Will suddenly became very interested in his mug.

“Hey.” Joyce’s hand squeezed Will’s. “We don’t need to talk about it, okay? I’m sorry if I was a little… intense about it. I just want you to know that I’m here for you, whatever you need from me. If that means that we just take it easy and shoot the shit for a while, then that’s what it means.”

“Okay.” Will smiled slightly, his gaze flicking back up to Joyce’s face. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.” Joyce pulled her hand back to her side of the table. “So what’s been new with you, kiddo?”

“I tell you I saw Jonathan a little while back?”

“Oh, yeah, I think you mentioned it--or maybe he did. That was the thing with the ambassador, right?”

“Yeah-- _ that _ wound up being a mess. It was nice seeing Jonathan, though… and it seems like he really  _ enjoyed _ his time on the ship…”

“Oh? This sounds good…”

- - -

Mike was in his office again, only this time El was with him.

He was fidgeting slightly in his chair behind his desk, while she was sitting on the other side poring over a datapad. Hopper was due to join them shortly, once he finished up a final point of inspection with Lucas.

“Relax, Mike,” El said, looking up at him. “You have nothing to worry about. Dad’s already told me that the  _ Hawkins _ is one of the best-run ships he’s seen. You’re going to get a good report out of this.”

“Huh?” Mike asked, startled from his reverie. “Oh, yeah… thanks.” The results of Hopper’s inspection were actually the last thing on his mind at the moment, but of course he couldn’t tell El that.

...or could he?

Lucas’s voice echoed in his head.  _ “I’m just saying that you and El have the possibility of having something really nice together, and it’d be a shame for you to miss out on that just because you’re scared.” _

Could they have something together…?

He drew in a deep breath, shaking his head. He was thinking about this all wrong. The fact of the matter was that he’d been worrying over this for a couple of weeks now, and it showed no signs of going away on its own. One way or another--without any attachment to any particular outcome--he had to be honest with El. He owed her that much.

“El,” he said. She looked back up from her pad, and his nerves screamed with anxiety as her eyes met his. Last chance to chicken out.

“I, uh.” He steeled himself, rallied. “While we have a minute here, can I talk to you about something?”

“Of course.” She laid the pad down on his desk. “What’s going on?”

“Well… I just…” His jangled nerves weren’t showing any signs of settling down, but he pressed on regardless. “Maybe you remember, back when you went to confront the shadow entity on that station, I… before I left, I told you that it would hurt to lose you.” She nodded slowly, something inscrutable in her eyes--apparently that exchange had left as much of an impression on her as it had on him. “Well, I suppose that got me thinking, and I’ve been turning it all over in my head a lot since then, and the conclusion I’ve come to is that… I care about you, a lot. I mean, obviously I do, you’ve become one of my closest friends, but I’ve started to think that maybe it’s more than just that.”

El didn’t say anything in response, but the obvious question was written all over her face.

“I guess what I’m trying to say here,” Mike continued, “is that I think that at some point along the way, I started developing… romantic feelings for you. To be clear,” he added quickly as she gasped, “this isn’t me asking for anything from you. I know--I am  _ painfully  _ aware--that I’m your commanding officer, and that throws a potentially awkward wrench into this situation for you. I don’t want to put that kind of pressure on you. But… I’m also your friend, and I think friends owe it to each other to be honest.” His gaze dropped down to the surface of his desk. “So… this is me, being honest. I hope that I’m not causing problems for you by saying all of this. You’ve been an incredible friend to me--I think that’s a big part of why I have these feelings for you--and whatever else might happen, I want to keep our friendship healthy and comfortable for both of us.”

There was a long silence. Mike’s breathing sounded loud in his ears, and he kept his gaze fixed on his desk, too nervous to look up at El.

“All this time,” she said at last, “I’ve been worrying so much about whether I should tell you about  _ my _ feelings for you… I never thought you’d beat me to it.”

Mike looked up, his heart leaping. “You mean…?”

_ “Yes, _ Mike.” El’s smile, though slightly embarrassed, was full and bright. “Yes, I feel the same way about you. How could I not? You’re just so…” She flushed red. “Well, I’m told I use a lot of adjectives to describe you. But above all, you’re kind and fiercely moral… as you’ve just demonstrated, for about the umpteenth time since I’ve known you.”

Now Mike was blushing too. “It’s kind of you to say so.”

“I’m not the only one who thinks it. Why do you think the others follow you so loyally?” 

Mike couldn’t muster any response to that but a smile, and she was smiling back at them, the two of them sitting there for a little while and smiling at each other in what felt like a slight daze. Finally El asked, “So where does this leave us?”

“I don’t know.” Mike sighed. “I guess… I guess that’s something that we need to talk about, when we have more time. But at least we  _ can _ talk about it now, openly and honestly.” He shrugged. “It’s been a long time since I’ve felt so unsure of the direction I was going. You turn me in circles, El. You have basically from the moment I met you.”

She arched an eyebrow at him. “You mean when you reprimanded me for being out of uniform?”

Mike cringed slightly. “...and you pointed out that I was out of line to do so, yes.” She laughed in response, the sound sending a small thrill of happiness through his body. This was uncharted territory--for both of them--but it felt so  _ right, _ and he could feel the weight of his worry dropping away.

“Speaking of when we have more time,” El said, glancing behind her at the door, “I would’ve expected my father to show up by now.”

Mike frowned. “Now that you mention it… I was half expecting him to burst in on us while we were talking.” He tapped his combadge. “Wheeler to Admiral Hopper. What’s your status?”

_ “Wheeler!”  _ Hopper’s voice snapped from the comm, making them both jump.  _ “Finally! I’ve been trying to contact you for five whole minutes. What the hell is wrong with your ship?!” _

“...sir?!”

_ “The damn turbolifts are on the fritz! I’ve tried three different lifts, and they keep skipping your deck! Then when I tried to call you about it, the comm didn’t go through! This is ridiculous, captain!” _

Mike swallowed, but El leaned in to speak. “All right, dad, give me a minute to look into it.” She gestured at Mike to put the comm on hold, then looked vaguely upwards. “Athaclena?” she said sternly.

_ “What?” _ Athaclena replied innocently.

“Is there a particular reason you’re giving my father the runaround?”

_ “Oh… well…” _ In his head, Mike could almost picture Athaclena shuffling a foot guiltily.  _ “It was just… you two were talking, and it took you  _ ** _so_ ** _ long to finally get around to talking about… that… and, well, I just thought it’d be good to make sure you had time to finish talking, you know?” _

El’s lips pinched together to suppress an amused smile as she glanced briefly at Mike. “We’ll discuss this later,” she said, trying to keep her stern tone intact. “For now, would you please stop harassing my father?”

_ “Okay…” _ Athaclena said, sounding like a dejected child.

El nodded at Mike to resume the comm with Hopper. “Sorted it out, dad,” she said. “You should be clear to get up here now.” She shook her head as Mike closed the line. “I have  _ got _ to start taking a firmer hand with Athaclena…”

Mike shrugged. “It meant well,” he said. Truthfully, though he knew he should be annoyed at the AI, he was having a lot of trouble worrying about anything right now--Athaclena’s misbehavior, Hopper’s irritation, or even the situation with Section 31 and the In-Between. His attention was focused entirely on El sitting across from him, her eyes sparkling as she tried and failed to conceal her own high spirits.

At last, a way forward had opened up for them--and whatever else came, they were going to take it.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back! ...again! My holiday break was lovely, but it turns out I was right about not having much time to write. Of course, a big part of that was that I got my mother hooked on Stranger Things and we were spending 3-4 hours a night watching it because she kept wanting to see the next episode. We watched through the first two seasons in the week that I was there, and then she binged the entirety of the third season while waiting for my text that I was home safe after my flight home got delayed, so... winning, I guess?
> 
> Anyway, the holidays are behind us and my schedule's settling back down, so we should be back to business as normal here. As always, thank you so much for following this fic, and if you're so inclined feel free to find me on Tumblr at that-guy-writes; I don't post to that blog super often but I check Tumblr just about every day, so if you drop me a message or an ask I'll see it.


	19. Lower Decks

“So did you get a chance to see the admiral while we were being inspected?” Steve asked. “Because, like, whoa. I thought the captain was kind of an intense guy, but the admiral seemed like he could scrunch him up and use him as a basketball.”

“Yeah, I was down with Commander Byers when he came through Engineering,” Robin said. “The guy really knows how to bark. I feel sorry for the crew of whatever ship he used to be captain of.”

“The really freaky thing, though, was the effect he was having on Henderson,” Steve said. “I mean, the other senior staff can get him to shut up and focus when they need to, but I’ve never seen anybody outright intimidate him like that. I swear he was _ sweating.” _

Robin nodded at the device Steve was currently engaged in tinkering with. “Maybe he was worried the admiral was going to chew him out for experimenting with plasma containment on a starship.”

“Hey, we’re making strides,” Steve replied, a touch defensively.

“Uh-huh.” Robin raised an eyebrow. “And exactly what strides have you made lately, pray tell?”

“Well, uh…” Steve hesitated. “Henderson says we’re making strides, and he’s smart, so I trust him.”

“Aw, how sweet.” Robin’s expression shifted from amusement to concern. “Wait, so… you’re sure you’re doing that right, right?”

Steve looked down at his ongoing tinkering, which he had not been particularly paying attention to since starting the conversation with Robin. “Uh… yeah. Totally.”

Robin looked skeptical of that claim, but she was robbed of any chance to express it because the lights in the lab chose that moment to flicker wildly, plunging them into darkness for a split second before returning to full brightness.

“Whoa, shit,” Steve said, standing up from his work and backing away from it with his hands in the air. “That wasn’t me, I swear.”

“Yeah, of course not, dingus. It’s not even plugged in.” Robin tapped her combadge. “Buckley to Engineering. Anybody else just get hit by that power fluctuation?”

_ “What power fluctuation?” _ The voice answering her belonged to K’eit, a Vulcan engineering officer.

“Wait, is that that asshole Vulcan?” Steve asked.

“Ssssh,” Robin hissed at him. “The lab just got hit by a pretty significant one,” she answered K’eit at full volume. “I was wanting to check if it was localized or if it hit other parts of the ship. Can you ask Commander Byers to--”

_ “Commander Byers is busy,” _ K’eit interrupted in a bored tone. _ “And he’s got Engineering on high alert, so the rest of us are busy too. We’ll look into it when we have time. K’eit out.” _

“Asshole,” Steve muttered.

“Steve,” Robin said sharply, shooting him a look. “High alert? What’s that about?”

Steve shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe the, like, phase decouplers are overcycling or something like that.”

Robin shuddered slightly. “Don’t even joke about that. That’d be a disaster.” She started to head for the door.

“Wait, I was just--is that actually a thing that can happen?” Steve asked, following her out. “Hey, Robin, wait up!”

He caught up with her in the hallway outside; she was bent over sideways, peering thoughtfully at the base of the wall. “Uh… Robin?”

“The main power conduit to the lab runs through here,” she said. “If we were the only part of the ship that was affected, then the problem would logically be here… but I can’t see anything immediately obvious from the outside.”

“So you just… know where the main power conduit is?”

She straightened up. “I mean, the whole reason I’m working as a liaison to Engineering is to figure out how to deliver power to the lab without completely frying everything, so… yeah, at this point I’m pretty familiar with the layout.” Pointing further down the hallway, she added, “Come on, there’s an access hatch down here. We should have a look at the conduit itself.”

Said access hatch pried easily off the wall, and Robin got down on her hands and knees to look inside, the lower half of her body sticking out of the hatch with Steve remaining standing over her. “What are we even looking for here?” he asked.

“I don’t know, something out of the ordinary,” Robin’s slightly muffled voice answered.

“So basically anything that doesn’t look like a functioning power conduit?”

“Exactly. And you say technical knowledge isn’t your forte… whoa.” Robin’s arm snaked out of the hatch to beckon Steve down. “Steve… come have a look at this.”

“Huh…? Okay, move over, then.” Steve squeezed his way into the hatch alongside Robin. The interior of the maintenance hatch looked about as one would expect it to: a long, narrow space dimly lit by the soft blue glow of power conduits running along its length until they disappeared out of sight in either direction. “Right, so what the hell am I…?” A pointing finger appeared in Steve’s peripheral vision, and his gaze followed the indicated direction until it hit--

“What the hell?!”

The shadowy object looked weirdly like some sort of turnip, a fleshy bulb about the length of Steve’s forearm hanging down from a cluster of tendrils that were fastened around several of the conduits. The bulb was pulsing in a soft rhythm, and as Steve stared at it he noticed that the conduits it was attached to were also pulsing, their light dimming in perfect time with the bulb.

“Weird, right?” Robin said. “It looks like it’s doing something to the conduits.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “So is it some kind of life-form, or…?”

His question was answered by a startlingly loud, animalistic shriek, causing them both to jump. The bulb’s tendrils twitched and lashed forward, pulling itself along the conduits toward Steve and Robin with terrifyingly improbable speed. The two of them screamed in unison and hauled themselves backwards, Steve adding a yelp of pain as an afterthought as the back of his skull connected with the edge of the hatch, causing him to collapse to the deck, groaning as he clutched at his head. Robin roughly shoved him aside and slammed the hatch’s cover back into place, throwing her entire weight against it to keep it shut. There was a long _ BANG _ and rattle as something impacted against the cover, followed by a muffled chittering noise from inside the wall that moved down the hallway, the creature apparently moving on.

“What,” groaned Steve from where he was curled up on his side, “the _ hell _ was that?”

“No idea,” Robin panted, slumping against the hatch’s cover. “Better question, where the hell did it come from? It’s not exactly easy to get on board the _ Hawkins _ without the crew noticing…”

“Maybe it’s spaceborne?” Steve suggested, gingerly easing himself up into a sitting position? “Burrowed through the hull or something like that?”

Robin shook her head. “No, the computer would’ve registered a hull breach, even one that small. I want to say it snuck aboard during an away mission, but the transporter crew would’ve noticed that much biomass getting caught in the beam…”

“Whatever,” said Steve. “We can figure that out _ after _ we stop it from doing… whatever it’s doing to the ship.”

“Agreed,” Robin nodded. “I think we should pass this one up the chain.” Her hand went to her combadge, but before she could press it, the sound of a wailing klaxon cut through the air, making her pause.

“A red alert…?!” Steve’s hand went to his own combade. “Harrington to Henderson--”

_ “Little busy here, Steve!” _ Dustin’s voice snapped back. The channel closed before Steve could get another word out, and the deck shuddered lightly beneath him and Robin.

“Is somebody _ shooting _ at us?!” Steve hauled himself to his feet, bracing a hand against the wall to ward against further tremors. “I really wish they’d tell us what’s going on more often…”

“Bigger problem,” Robin said as she hauled herself up level with Steve. “If we just got into a fight, and that thing’s scurrying around doing who knows what to the ship’s systems--”

Steve swallowed hard. “But if Henderson doesn’t even have time to hear us out, then I’m guessing the senior staff has their attention fixed on whatever’s happening up there.”

Robin nodded, drawing in a deep breath. “Then I guess this is down to us.”

\- - -

“You know, chasing one creature through the ship’s service ducts was one too many as it is,” Steve commented as they went down the hallway. “Two is _ definitely _ pushing it.”

“You’re the one who signed up for Starfleet, dude,” Robin replied, poring over a tricorder. As if to underscore the point, the ship around them rattled violently, causing them both to stumble briefly as they regained their footing. _ “That _was a big one.”

“Hope the shields are holding up okay,” Steve said, looking upwards as though he’d be able to see the answer to his question.

“Well, doesn’t sound like anything’s breached the hull yet. _ Damn _it.” Robin let the hand holding the tricorder drop down to her side with a huff of frustration. “I can’t get a lock on this thing.”

“What do you mean, you can’t get a lock?”

“I _ mean, _ the ship’s full of life-signs and I can’t isolate this creature out of them without knowing more about its biology.” 

_ “Something I can help with?” _

Steve and Robin both jumped; the voice, upbeat and chipper, had seemingly come out of nowhere. “Hello…?” Robin called, peering down the hallway.

_ “Yes, I’m here,” _ said the voice. _ “I mean, not _ ** _here_ ** _ here. I’m in the computer.” _

“In the…?” Steve gaped. “How does _ that _ work?”

_ “Very well, thank you! Anyway, I noticed some weird power fluctuations down here. Mom’s too busy dealing with the mean guys who’re trying to blow us up, so I thought I’d look into it myself, and that’s when I noticed you guys were investigating too.” _

Robin frowned. “Wait, who’s ‘mom’?”

_ “...oh.” _ The voice took on a distinctly embarrassed tone. _ “That is… you’d probably know her best as Lieutenant Hopper.” _

Steve clicked his fingers. “Oh, right! You’re her… AI dog thing.”

_ “Yep!” _ Athaclena gave a happy bark that was uncannily realistic. _ “So what are you looking for?” _

“We’re trying to find some kind of life-form that we think is messing with the ship’s systems,” Robin said. “But we’re having trouble picking it out among the crew’s life signs. Do you think you can track it down?”

_ “Huh. That’d explain the fluctuations. And no, I’m not going to do any better than you finding it without more detailed information on its biology.” _ Athaclena paused thoughtfully. _ “But… maybe we _ ** _have_ ** _ information on its biology? What do you know about it?” _

“Not much,” Robin said. “We’re not even sure how it got on board.”

“It’s a weird fleshy thing, kinda looks like a turnip,” Steve added. “Bunch of tentacles on the end, seems to like power conduits for some reason?”

_ “Hang on, collating data…” _ Athaclena paused again. _ “...and bingo. That description matches a specimen brought back from the away mission to Trefry VI a couple of days ago. Ooo, interesting--an energyvore.” _

“An _ energyvore?!” _ Robin repeated, incredulous. “They brought a live energyvore on board the ship?!”

_ “Oh, I see what went wrong,” _ Athaclena said. _ “They have it listed as a cadaver specimen, but shortly before the fight started, it was reported missing from the analysis lab.” _

“It wasn’t dead,” Robin groaned. “It was hibernating, or in some kind of stasis.”

_ “Yep!” _ Athaclena agreed cheerfully. _ “It must have sensed that it was in an energy-rich environment and woken up to feed.” _

“And now it’s chowing down on the ship’s systems,” Steve finished. “So do we know how to find it?”

_ “Downloading biological data to your tricorder now.” _ Robin’s tricorder pinged as it received the data. _ “Oh, careful not to let it get its tendrils on you--they don’t look like much, but based on the musculature I’m guessing they’re strong enough to crush your bones.” _

“Great,” Robin sighed, consulting the tricorder. “Okay… got it!”

_ “Good luck!” _Athaclena called as they charged down the hallway.

\- - -

“Oh, this isn’t good,” Robin said. The tricorder had led them down several levels, such that they were currently descending into the outskirts of Engineering. “I think it’s being drawn to higher energy densities.”

Steve let out a grunt of effort as he dropped from a ladder down to the deck behind her. “I’m not sure what that means, but I’m going to take a guess and say it’s going for the most important stuff?”

“Pretty much. I mean, the highest energy density on the ship by a few orders of magnitude is going to be the warp drive…”

“Oh.” Steve swallowed. “It… can’t breach the warp core, can it?”

“Um…” Robin grimaced. “...probably not?”

“Ah. Great. So we _ probably _ won’t get instantaneously vaporized then. Real encouraging.” Steve drew a phaser, only to stop as Robin motioned for him to stow it again. “No phaser? Why?”

“First, because you’re a terrible shot,” Robin said. Ignoring an offended noise from Steve, she continued, “Second, because this thing’s biology is optimized to absorb energy. I’m not sure that phasers are going to work on it.”

“Seriously? Not even at max intensity?”

Robin shrugged. “Might injure it. Might just piss it off. No way to know for sure before we actually try it. Are you volunteering for that?”

Steve took a moment to contemplate the point before stowing his phaser. The ship shuddered under a distant impact. “Okay. No phaser. How do we do this, then?”

“Let’s see… ah.” Robin crossed the room, over to a replicator nook in the wall. “Computer, replicate one copy of pattern Henderson-1485.” The nook shimmered, and when the light faded, it held a copy of Steve’s custom-replicated mace. She snatched it up and tossed it across the room to Steve.

“Again? Really?” Steve asked as he caught it. “Why does it always come down to me smacking the creature with a metal stick?”

“Because it works, and historically you’re good at it.”

“You knock around one freaky extradimensional monster and you’re pigeonholed for life,” Steve grumbled, swinging the mace experimentally. “Okay. Where’s the energyvore… thing?”

“It’s…” Robin looked down at the tricorder, gasped, and pressed a finger to her lips.

“Huh?” Robin pointed, and Steve followed it up… up to a worryingly familiar turnip-like shape that was hanging from the rafters, pulsing softly with its tendrils wrapped around another group of power conduits.

“All right, carefully now,” Robin whispered. “If we can--”

_ “HEY, SHITHEAD!” _ Steve yelled without waiting for her to finish, footsteps clattering on the deck as he sprinted across the room. Robin’s hand clapped to her face as the energyvore let out an alarmed shriek. 

Steve took a running leap at the energyvore, his mace swirling through the air in an arcing blow. It whiffed through the space that the energyvore’s bulb had occupied moments before--the creature had released its grip on the rafters, dropping to the deck in order to avoid the attack. Its tendrils reached for Steve as he landed heavily, but he swatted at it with a backhanded return blow, clipping it hard enough to send it spiraling through the air with a squeal.

“Careful, Steve!” Robin called.

“Yeah, no shit,” Steve mumbled, flourishing his mace.

The energyvore had recovered, sitting on coiled tendrils with its bulb in the air. It was regarding Steve cautiously--at least, he thought it was. (Why didn’t any of these damn things have eyes?) It swayed slightly from side to side, seeming to size him up, and then tensed suddenly, having apparently come to a decision.

Its tendrils lashed out, propelling it across the deck at startling speed--toward the exit.

Steve blinked. “What the--?!”

“After it!” Robin yelled.

\- - -

A door slid open and Will stepped out, expression set in determination, flanked by a team of engineers. “We need damage control on decks eight through twelve,” he said, speaking firmly and letting his voice carry enough to ensure he was heard. “We’ve taken some nasty hits and we need to get the systems back in--” He faltered briefly as a flicker of movement at the end of the hallway caught his eye.

Some kind of organism resembling an inverted fleshy turnip came scrambling down the hall, letting out an extended _ sqeeeeeeeeee. _ Will and the engineers’ heads all slowly turned in unison as they watched it come and go.

Then Steve flew down the hallway at a dead run coming from the same direction, screaming like a berserker with his mace held aloft over his head.

Next came Robin, who was also screaming as her arms and legs pumped to keep up with Steve and the mystery organism.

There was a long stretch of quiet as the sound of squealing and screaming faded away down the hallway. At length, Will spoke.

“What the _ fuck?!” _

\- - -

Steve’s shoes slid on the deck; he rebounded off a wall, redirecting his momentum to push himself around a corner. Further ahead was the energyvore, tendrils coiled, hissing angrily; the hall dead-ended behind it.

“Ha!” snorted Steve, twirling his mace as he advanced. “What now? You’re trapped.”

Robin appeared around the corner, panting hard. “Easy, Steve,” she said between gasps of breath. “We don’t need to kill it. Just stun it so that we can figure out how to contain it.”

“Yeah, yeah, got it.” Steve swung the mace high into the air, putting both hands on the grip to bring it down in a double-handed overhead strike.

The energyvore’s tendrils shot out, wrapping around the mace’s shaft and halting its descent.

“Um…” Steve tugged on the mace and was nearly pulled over as the energyvore tugged back. More tendrils wrapped around the mace, strengthening its grip on the weapon. “Robin, help!”

“What do you mean, _ help?! _ What am I supposed to do?!”

“I don’t know, freakin’--!!” Steve yelped as the mace was torn from his grasp. The energyvore hauled its prize in and then, gripping the mace all along its length, proceeded to slowly but mercilessly bend the weapon out of shape until it was very nearly tied in a knot.

Steve and Robin stared.

Then the energyvore snarled, and they took off running down the hall away from it.

Its screeching pursued them as they fled, down the hallway and past startled crew members. Only when the screeching faded away, and they risked a glance over their shoulders to see nothing behind them, did they allow themselves to collapse to the deck, gasping for breath.

“We lost it…?” Steve asked.

“More likely it gave up,” Robin answered. “We’re threats, not prey. Chasing us off is good enough.” She rolled onto her back, letting her arms flop out to either side. “Ugh. This thing is impossible to deal with. Maybe we should give up trying to catch it and just distract it until whatever the hell is going on is over…”

Steve rolled over on his back as well, lost in an unusually thoughtful silence. “Hang on a sec,” he said at length. “Do you think we can get it back up to the lab somehow?”

Robin turned her head to look at him, cocking a questioning eyebrow. “What, do you have a plan?”

“I… think I might.”

“Huh.” She returned her gaze to the ceiling. “Well… if it’s drawn to energy-dense objects, we might be able to catch its attention with one. Bait it out.”

  
“Cool,” Steve said. “So if we do that, then…”

\- - -

“Here, little freaky thing,” Steve called in a sing-song voice. “Nice little freaky thing…” The phaser in his hand--grasped by the barrel, butt out--crackled ominously.

(“I’m overcharging this right up to the limit,” Robin had said. “Don’t pull the trigger; it _ will _ explode. It’s set on stun, so it won’t kill you, but you’re still not going to have a good time.”)

Steve swallowed.

A clattering up ahead drew his attention. A maintenance hatch had popped open, spilling out the energyvore. It chittered slightly, regarding Steve (probably, again) and the phaser in his hand with something that seemed like curiosity.

“Hey,” Steve said in his best friendly talking-to-children-and-animals voice. “Hey there, buddy. Sorry about trying to knock you around earlier. You like energy, right? I’ve got a nice little bundle of energy _ riiiiiiight _ here…”

The energyvore scooted forward a few feet, and Steve shuffled back away from it. “You’re going to have to come and get it, though,” he said. “C’mon, you adorable little… whatever you are.” They continued this dance--the energyvore advancing, and Steve retreating in response, drawing it forward even further--down the hallway, past a truly bewildered Bolian, and further still until Steve suddenly veered to the side, stepping backwards through a doorway that slid open upon his approach. “You want this, huh? You want this? Well… _ go get it!” _

He hurled the phaser, sending it flying across the room. With an excited _ squee, _ the energyvore scrambled after it.

“Now, Robin!” Steve called.

A field buzzed into existence around the energyvore, halting it in its tracks. It screeched and lashed out with its tendrils, which bounced off harmlessly. “I was _ so _ sure that wasn’t going to work,” Robin said. She stood from where she had been crouching, next to the plasma containment unit Steve had been tinkering with earlier, which was now tipped over on its side so that its emitters were level with the energyvore. “Wow, it really can’t penetrate the pseudomagnetic field. How’d you figure that out?”

Steve shrugged. “Well, you know. I figured, like, the induction field’s set up to repel and contain energy… and the thingy feeds on energy… so I figured it’d also repel whatever it uses to absorb energy, so it wouldn’t be able to absorb the field.”

Robin stared blankly at him. “You were completely guessing, weren’t you?”

“Well, I guessed _ right, _ didn’t I?”

“...yeah. You sure did, dingus.” Robin grinned as she tapped her combadge. “Buckley to Henderson. Any chance you’ve got a minute?”

_ “Robin! Yeah, sorry, things were crazy up here for a bit, but we got it all sorted out. What was it you guys were trying to talk to me about earlier?” _

“Well, about that…” Robin crouched down to peer at the energyvore, which was still futilely searching its prison for weak points. “We’ve got something down here that I think you’re going to want to see.”

\- - -

Dustin let out a low whistle as he bent to examine the energyvore, which backed away from him with a shrill hiss. “Wow. That’s a live one, all right. I would’ve sworn up and down that it was dead when it got brought in. It must be capable of some pretty deep hibernation--incredible.”

“Incredibly irritating, you mean.” Max crossed her arms, frowning at the creature. “So this thing was loose on the ship? Feeding on its systems?”

“Yes, sir,” Robin replied. “Fortunately, we managed to neutralize it before it could do any major damage.”

“Fortunately indeed.” Max grimaced. “It would’ve been a disaster if it had managed to drain something critical while we were fighting that Tzenkethi raider.”

Robin raised an eyebrow. “So that was the Tzenkethi we were fighting?”

“Minor border skirmish. Not something you need to worry about.”

“...they were _ shooting at us.” _

Max snorted softly. “Well. In any event, I’m going to have to write up an incident report… thanks to you two, though, it’ll be a fairly short one. You did good, and I’ll be sure to put you both in for commendations.”

“Thank you, sir,” Steve said. He and Robin both straightened up to attention as Max turned to leave the lab, and then relaxed as the door slid shut behind her. “What do you want to do about that thing, Henderson?” Steve added. “I mean, I don’t think we can really keep it in that field long-term.”

“No, no, of course not,” Dustin said. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll come up with some kind of sealed enclosure that keeps it from getting into the ship’s systems while also giving it room to move around. We want to make sure we’re treating it humanely, of course.” He waved a hand idly at the two of them. “Why don’t you two take a shift off while I work on that? You’ve more than earned it.”

Steve nodded. “Thanks, Henderson.” He and Robin headed for the door, only just having time to hear Dustin begin to coo, “Look at you, aren’t you just the most adorable thing? We’re going to be friends!” before it shut behind them.

“Well _ that’s _ typical,” Steve sighed.

“Mm,” Robin agreed. They headed down the hallway, making for the turbolift that would carry them down to the crew quarters; as they approached it, though, the door slid open to reveal Mike and El. Steve and Robin quickly stepped aside, splitting apart to either wall and standing at attention to allow the senior officers past. Mike nodded acknowledgement as he walked by, and El gave a quick wink to Robin, and then they were moving on down the hallway. Steve’s gaze followed them as they went, long enough to see El’s hand slide up casually and loop itself around Mike’s bicep.

“Have the captain and Lieutenant Hopper got a thing going on?” he asked, frowning slightly.

“They’ve had a thing going on for months now,” Robin answered from the turbolift door.

“No, I mean like an actual _ thing _ thing, not a weird plausible deniability thing.”

Robin shrugged. “Maybe. They’ve sure been making eyes at each other long enough.”

“Man.” Steve let out a long sigh as he joined Robin in the turbolift. “Why are we always the last ones to find out about these things?”

“That’s life on the lower decks, my friend. Get used to it.” Robin nudged him softly. “Come on. I’ve got this new game my friend swears up and down is the most amazing thing they’ve ever tried. I’ll grab the data rod from our bunk and we can see if one of the holosuites is open.”

“Okay, _ now _ you’re speaking my language.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After tension and stakes and character drama, it's nice to take a break and write a chapter about your favorite brotp duo who've got one brain cell between them. (And by "between them", I mean it belongs to Robin.)


	20. Research Fellowship

_ “Captain’s log: We’ve been assigned to a joint scientific venture with a delegation from the Vulcan Science Directorate, measuring solar radiation from a binary star system that apparently exhibits some unusual properties. We’re on course to rendezvous with the Vulcan delegation later today. Lieutenant Henderson has been in a very good mood regarding the whole thing--even more so than he usually is with science stuff--but he’s been playing coy as to the source of said good mood.” _

“Another day, another guest to entertain,” Lucas murmured, just loud enough for Mike to hear. The two of them plus Dustin were stood at the edge of the _ Hawkins’ _ shuttle bay, watching as a Federation-standard runabout glided slowly to a halt. “I don’t think I’ve ever entertained Vulcans before. I can’t decide whether I think it’d be easier or harder.”

“That’s because you’re wrong both ways,” Mike murmured back with a small grin. Unlike Lucas, he’d spent a lot of time entertaining Vulcans as first officer on board the _ Surak _\--his captain had maintained many connections to her homeworld. “Easier in some ways, harder in others. On the whole, just… different.” He spared a glance past Lucas at Dustin, who was bobbing slightly as he bounced on the balls of his feet. He still hadn’t managed to figure out why this project in particular had Dustin so excited; even Steve and Robin, who were normally privy to Dustin’s unfiltered thoughts, didn’t seem to know.

Of course, Dustin’s personal business was his own, and normally Mike wouldn’t be inclined to give it a second thought, save that Dustin was taking such obvious pleasure in keeping the secret.

A mechanical hum, dropping in pitch from high to low, announced that the runabout had come to rest, and the three officers took that as their cue to approach. The runabout’s hatch slid open as they did so, revealing the form of a Vulcan woman wearing the uniform of the Science Directorate, dark hair severely pulled back in a high ponytail that fell to the nape of her neck.

“Hello!” Lucas called out to her. “Welcome to the USS _ Hawkins!” _

The Vulcan woman looked at him and responded with a single curt nod; apparently tripped up by the abruptness of the gesture, Lucas stopped and looked uncertainly at Mike. Undeterred, Mike kept his gaze on the Vulcan woman and returned a nod of his own, equally curt--though, of course, it was only ‘curt’ by human standards. Vulcans considered it reasonably polite.

Another figure moved in the runabout’s doorway, and Mike blinked, finding himself briefly taken aback. It was another Vulcan woman, this one wearing her hair in pigtails, a style Mike would have found a bit, well, _ girlish _ on anybody, let alone a Vulcan and member of the Science Directorate. His reaction went unnoticed, however; the pigtailed Vulcan’s eyes went directly to Dustin, and her face split into a grin. “Dusty-bun!” she said, making a beeline for him.

“Hey there, Su’zei-poo,” Dustin replied, stepping forward. Mike and Lucas goggled slightly at them as they embraced, and the other Vulcan woman kept her face in the carefully neutral expression that Vulcans used in lieu of rolling their eyes.

_ “Dusty-bun?!” _ Lucas asked incredulously.

_ “Su’zei-poo?” _ Mike added, equally incredulous.

Dustin turned to them, a mischievous smile plastered across his face. “Yep! Captain Wheeler, Commander Sinclair, I would like to introduce the two of you to Su’zei of the Vulcan Science Directorate.”

“Dusty has been introducing me to the concept of shortened names and affectionate suffixes as a form of emotional intimacy,” Su’zei explained brightly.

Lucas’s eyebrows had gone up about as high as it was possible for them to go. “So you two are, uh…”

“We are engaged in an intermittent but thoroughly enjoyable romantic and sexual relationship,” Su’zei affirmed, nodding.

Mike coughed lightly. “Right, um… thank you for clarifying that.” Now that he thought of it, he remembered somebody mentioning Dustin’s Vulcan girlfriend in conversation before. He was slightly annoyed with himself for not putting the pieces together sooner. “And, er, this is…?” He gestured to the other Vulcan.

“Oh, right!” Su’zei turned to her. “This is my assistant, Milei.”

Milei nodded at them. “A pleasure, Captain Wheeler, Commander Sinclair, um…” She frowned slightly at Dustin. “I apologize, I have only ever heard you referred to as ‘Dusty’.”

“Lieutenant Henderson,” Mike supplied.

“Lieutenant Henderson,” Milei repeated. “I hope that our work together will be productive.”

“As do I,” Dustin agreed. “It’s good to finally get to meet you, Milei. I was thinking I could escort the two of you up to your quarters… and Su’zei, if you’re not too tired from the trip, then after that I could take you down to the lab and you can have a look at my equipment and the things I’m working on.”

Su’zei squeezed his arm. “I would _ love _that, Dusty.”

Dustin looked at Mike. “With your permission, Captain?” Mike nodded and waved them away.

“She’s a bit odd for a Vulcan, isn’t she?” Lucas asked as they watched the receding forms of Dustin, Su’zei, and Milei pass through the door.

“She’s positively _ eccentric,” _ said Mike.

Lucas looked at him in surprise. “I don’t know that I’d go _ that _ far.”

“I would,” Mike said. “You’ve got to remember--Vulcans, you take any emotional cue you notice, and multiply it by ten.”

“Oh.” Mike could see Lucas running that in his head. “Oh _ wow. _ Okay, yeah, I can see where you’re getting ‘eccentric’, then. Not what I would’ve expected from a representative of the Science Directorate.”

“They’re not usually particularly tolerant of personalities that big,” Mike agreed. “Which I can only assume means that she’s _ very _ good at what she does, if they haven’t managed to find an excuse to drum her out of there yet.”

Lucas winced. “That’s kinda harsh.”

“I’m with you there. But the Vulcans you’ve encountered, the ones that’ve gone out and joined Starfleet or otherwise struck out into the galaxy--those are the friendly, open-minded ones. The homeworld Vulcans tend to be a lot more stodgy and conservative.”

“That a fact?” Lucas asked, raising an eyebrow.

Mike shrugged. “It’s a near-verbatim quote of something my old captain told me once, so you tell me.”

“She had kind of an interesting relationship with the folks back home, sounds like.”

“Yeah.” Mike sighed. “That was something we bonded over.”

\- - -

As had become the custom on the _ Hawkins _ when a VIP was visiting the ship, Mike arranged a makeshift banquet in the ready room for the guests and his senior staff. Su’zei took the spot of central interest, sitting in the middle of one side of the table with Dustin and Milei flanking her, and Lucas, Will, and Max all arrayed along the opposite side. Will had taken Dustin’s relationship with Su’zei in stride--Mike suspected that he’d had more foreknowledge of the matter, given how close he was with Dustin--and Max had overcome her initial shock and settled into a routine of gently ribbing the couple, so far succeeding in eliciting a couple of embarrassed reactions from Dustin but none from Su’zei.

In the meantime, habit had driven Mike to occupy his usual spot at the head of the table, and El had taken a spot at his left-hand side. And if they were occasionally squeezing hands or stroking each other’s knees affectionately under the table as they ate… well, nobody was about to notice with their attention focused elsewhere.

“So it sounds like the Science Directorate has a pretty keen interest in this binary system we’re headed to,” Will said conversationally between bites.

“Oh, yes,” Su’zei replied. “It’s quite interesting, it--”

“--exhibits unique properties, yes, we’ve been filled in,” Max cut in. “Sorry, no technobabble at the table, please; it makes me lose my appetite.”

“Oh. Okay.” Su’zei looked slightly dejected.

“Your loss, Max. You’re missing out on the knowledge of a true expert in the field.” Dustin nudged Su’zei, a look of pride on his face. “There’s nobody in the quadrant who knows more about astrophysics and stellar mechanics than Su’zei here.”

A light green flush spread over Su’zei’s face. “That’s not true!”

“Oh, yeah? Name one person who knows more than you, then.”

“Um…”

“See! You had to think about it, which makes my point quite nicely.” Dustin crossed his arms triumphantly. “Face it, Su’zei-poo--you’re really smart.”

“Pretty big compliment, coming from Dustin,” Will said with a grin. “Seeing as he’s one of the smartest guys I know himself.”

“That’s not what you said the other day about him keeping that energyvore as a pet,” Max said.

“Smart, not wise.” Ignoring Dustin sticking his tongue out at him, Will continued, “In all seriousness, though, if Dustin says you’re an expert in your field, then you’re pretty top-notch. The Directorate’s lucky to have somebody like you.”

“Oh.” Su’zei’s reaction to the compliment was oddly subdued, and her eyes darted downward to her food. “Thank you.”

“Perhaps you could express those sentiments to the Directorate, Commander?” Milei said with an edge of dry irony. It was practically the first thing she’d said for the entire meal, which drew a few startled looks from around the table.

“Oh… uh, are you having problems with them?”

“They don’t like me,” Su’zei said, with a note of quiet misery.

“Su’zei is not especially popular with the board, in spite of having an excellent track record as a scientist,” Milei explained. “They feel that she lacks proper scientific dignity.”

“‘Dignity’,” Dustin snorted. “Since when was science about dignity?”

“Somehow not surprised to hear you say that, Dustin,” Max said.

“I stand by it.” Dustin shook his head. “I mean, what do they mean when they say ‘dignity’, anyway? Arrogance. Self-assurance. A scientist should always allow themselves to be led to the truth as it is, not seek for a result that they want or that makes them look good. They’re just mad because you don’t have your head up your ass like they do.”

“Dusty,” Su’zei protested.

“Sorry.” Dustin laid his hand on top of hers. “I know I shouldn’t say stuff like that, but I get so mad about the way they treat you… about the way they treat anybody who thinks differently from them. Honestly, I think I would hate having to do these joint projects with them if I hadn’t met you.”

“Aw, Dusty-bun…” Su’zei leaned into Dustin’s shoulder, nuzzling him lightly with her cheek.

“You know, Su’zei,” Max said, “we humans have an old saying that’s gotten many of us through similar situations since ancient times.”

“Oh?” Su’zei perked up slightly with curiosity. “What is it?”

“Fuck the motherfuckers.”

Snorts of laughter erupted around the table, Su’zei practically doubling over while Dustin’s shoulders shook with the effort of holding his laughter in. Milei merely blinked in surprise, and Mike and El traded a glance with knowing smiles.

“Thank you for the words of wisdom, commander,” Su’zei said after she had recovered. “I will take them under consideration.”

\- - -

The twin suns blazed in the runabout’s viewscreen as it glided through space towards them. “Okay, final approach to scan range,” Dustin said from one side of the control console. “It’s going to be a little bit tricky to get into a stable orbit with two gravity wells at work--”

“I can handle that,” Milei said from the other side. “Focus on preparing the readings.” Without further ado, she began working the console with quick, confident precision.

“Confident and competent,” Will commented from the back. “I’m envious of your assistant, Su’zei. I don’t suppose there’s any chance of me stealing her for my engineering crew?”

“Not even remotely,” Su’zei answered. She’d perched herself behind Dustin, her arms propped on the back of his seat. “I’d fall apart in less than a week without her around to keep me together and focused.”

“You undersell yourself,” Milei said as she continued to work.

Su’zei shook her head. “By saying that, you’re discounting the value of your contributions to my enterprises, which logically means that _ you’re _ the one underselling yourself here.”

There was a beat of silence. “I think you just got out-logicked, Milei,” Dustin said.

“Hmph,” Milei said, not sounding especially displeased. “I’ve settled us into one of the binary’s L-points. We’re stable and ready to begin.”

“Excellent.” Su’zei leaned over Dustin, pushing herself up onto her toes to be able to reach the console over his shoulder. “All right, now I want to start with a cosmographic analysis of the solar wind coming off of the two stars, because our early spectral data had a few curious anomalies that I want to examine in more detail…”

“Okay,” Dustin said. “We should probably get a detailed analysis on their composition as well…”

“I get the feeling that they’re going to be at this for a little while,” Will said to Milei.

“Quite likely,” Milei agreed, turning in her seat to face him. “Is the subject matter not of interest to you?”

Will shrugged. “I’m an engineer, I do machines,” he said. “Stellar mechanics aren’t really my area. I’m just here so that you have a technical expert on hand in case there’s an equipment malfunction that needs to get addressed.”

“Then, meaning no offense,” Milei said, “but I fervently desire your utter uselessness to this project.”

Will blinked. “Wait, was that a joke?”

“We Vulcans do have senses of humor,” Milei said with a small smile creasing her face. “Despite stereotypes to the contrary.”

“Just a preference towards dry, straight-faced humor,” Will said. “In other words, a species after my own heart.”

Milei nodded. “Perhaps you should start a cultural exchange program, come to Vulcan sometime. My experience has been that you humans have elevated sarcasm to an art form. You can teach us the finer points of that, and we can teach you the intricacies of the seemingly innocuous remark.”

“That sounds great,” Will laughed. “I’ll get to work on a proposal once we get back to the _ Hawkins.” _

“Uh-oh,” Su’zei said.

Milei and Will’s heads snapped towards her. “Uh-oh?” Will said. “What’s ‘uh-oh’?”

“Nothing to worry about!” Su’zei said, frantically jabbing at buttons on the console. “We can handle this!”

“We, uh, may experience some slight turbulence,” Dustin said. “...and then get roasted by a solar flare.”

Milei and Will blinked at him in unison, then sprang into action. “Shields up,” Milei said, voice taut. “Diverting all available auxiliary power to them.”

“Can we come about?” Will asked. “Get clear of the danger zone?”

Dustin shook his head. “No time. First impact’s going to be in less than a minute.”

_ “First _ impact?”

“First of several, most likely,” Su’zei confirmed. “We should still try. Further away is better.”

The runabout’s cabin lurched, its occupants swaying slightly as it spun faster than the inertial dampeners could fully compensate for. “Going to maximum impulse,” Milei said. “We’re on course back to the _ Hawkins _\--”

“Shit!” Dustin yelped. “Brace! Everybody brace!”

No sooner had he said it than a massive impact rattled the runabout, sending the interior shaking violently. Milei and Dustin clung grimly to their seats, while Su’zei braced herself with her arms wrapped around Dustin, clinging for dear life. Unable to grab on to anything in time, Will was thrown through the floor, only barely managing to curl his spine and roll off the worst of the impact.

Just as suddenly as it had begun, the shaking stopped, leaving in its wake the chime of alerts from the console and a wash of heat that raised beads of sweat on the foreheads of the runabout’s occupants. “Damage report,” Dustin groaned, gingerly extricating himself from Su’zei’s grip so that he could lean forward over the console.

“Hull integrity is holding,” Milei reported. “Shields down to… 42%.”

“That wasn’t so bad,” Will said from where he was still lying on the floor. “I was expecting a lot worse.”

“There _ will _ be a lot worse,” Su’zei said. “That was just one of the smaller initial eruptions.”

Will let out a mighty groan as he levered himself up into a sitting position. “Fuck me. Of course it was.”

A burst of static cut into the conversation. _ “...to runabout! What… status? Do you… Repeat, _ Hawkins _ to runabout! Do you copy?!” _

Dustin punched the runabout’s comm system. “Henderson here. We’re all alive, the runabout’s intact… so far.”

Mike’s relief was palpable even over the comm. _ “Good. Okay. Stand by, runabout, we’re coming in for a retrieval.” _

“No use,” Su’zei said. She was looking at the readings. “I estimate we have… two minutes, tops, before the next eruption. We’re going to have to get back under our own power, and quickly.”

“How do you propose we accomplish that?” Milei’s tone was tense but controlled. “We barely have impulse power--we’re lucky to be able to _ limp. _ We’ll never outrun the next eruption.”

“Oh, don’t say _ never, _ Milei,” Su’zei said. “We just need to think. Where are we at right now?”

“Basically drifting,” Will supplied. “Right in the blast zone for the next flare. Shields too low to deflect another hit. Am I missing anything here?”

“No, that is an accurate summary,” Milei said.

“Right,” Su’zei said. “We can’t run, and we can’t withstand the next flare, so let’s not try to do either of those things. What options does that leave us?” She looked around the cabin, muttering to herself. “Okay. Okay. So instead of running, we _ ride. _ And instead of withstanding… we _ absorb.” _

“I already don’t like where this is going,” Will said.

“Oh, it’s admittedly a large gamble,” Su’zei said. “If we reconfigure the shield emitters to absorb the energy from the next flare, and shunt it out through the thrusters… hypothetically, it could give us enough power to get to a safe distance. Or the extra energy could overload and blow us all up.”

“Basically what was going to happen to us anyway,” Dustin said. “It’s a calculated risk. I think it’s worth it.”

“Even if it works, it’s going to completely fry the runabout’s systems,” Will pointed out. “Then we’ll _ actually _be drifting.”

“Admittedly true,” Milei said. “However, the _ Hawkins _is close enough that they should be able to retrieve us before life support runs out.” She nodded once, firmly. “I am in accord with Dustin and Su’zei. It’s the best chance we have.”

Su’zei looked to Will. “Commander?”

He sighed. “Can’t really argue. It’s the moment for last-ditch attempts.”

“Then we’re agreed. Dusty, will you please let the _ Hawkins _ know to be ready for a retrieval?”

_ “I’ve been listening,” _ Mike said over the comm. _ “And for the record, if this were anything less than life and death, I would have some _ ** _serious_ ** _ problems with this plan. That said, we’ll be on standby, ready for retrieval.” _

“Thank you, captain,” Su’zei said. “Commander, can you please reconfigure the shield emitters according to these parameters…” She reeled off a string of numbers; Will nodded and headed for the back of the runabout. “Milei, please point our nose directly away from the star.”

“Done,” Milei said, tapping a few buttons.

“T minus thirty seconds to the next flare,” Dustin called. “Will--!”

“I’m _ working _on it!” Will called irritably from the back. “Every time with the damn time constraints… okay, we’re set!”

“Five seconds!” Dustin called. “Four… three… two… _ brace!!” _

Another impact slammed through the runabout, even larger than the last one. A dull roar filled the cabin as it shook, undercut by the shrill scream of alarms. The temperature began to rise steadily, and streams of sweat began to run down the runabout’s occupants as they sat huddled, braced against the blast. For agonizingly long seconds, the universe turned into a roiling clamor, a whirling impression of light and head and noise--

And then, stillness and silence.

“We seem to be alive,” Su’zei observed.

“Seems that way,” Dustin agreed. He turned his head to her, tilted his face up to plant a kiss on her lips. “Milei? Will?”

“I am uninjured,” Milei reported.

“Regretting my life choices, but alive,” Will called from the back. “And I owe Milei an apology.”

Milei spun in her chair, surprised. “An apology for what, commander?”

“I didn’t wind up being useless after all.”

There was a moment of quiet before all four of the runabout’s occupants broke into loud, unrestrained, and most of all _ relieved _ laughter.

\- - -

“Su’zei, it was a pleasure having you aboard the _ Hawkins,” _ Mike said.

“The pleasure was mine, captain,” Su’zei replied.

Mike, Max, and Dustin stood alongside Su’zei and Milei in front of one of the _ Hawkins’ _shuttles. Su’zei’s runabout had been far too damaged following the stunt with the solar flare to be salvaged in the few remaining days of her visit--Will had vocally despaired of it being salvaged at all, but Mike had a feeling he’d come through in the end. In the meantime, they’d agreed to a complicated swap wherein Su’zei would take a shuttle home and the Science Directorate would ensure that it was returned to Starfleet at a later date, while Mike would ensure that the runabout was repaired or replace and returned to the Directorate at a later date.

As often happened in Starfleet, they made do with the situation they were in.

“I’ll be writing a glowing report back to the Science Directorate regarding the joint project, of course,” Mike said. “And if you ever decide that you’re tired of dealing with them, I’d be more than happy to give you a recommendation for a position in Starfleet.”

A light green flush rose in Su’zei’s cheeks. “You’re too kind, captain.”

“Seeing as you’re the reason I still have a science officer and a chief engineer, I’d say I’m being exactly kind enough.”

“He’s right, Su’zei.” Dustin stepped forward, taking her by the hand. “Besides, you’re returning to the Directorate with an unprecedented volume of data on the mechanics of solar flares. Granted that there’s a _ reason _ it’s unprecedented, but hey, they can’t argue with results.”

“I think you’re underestimating them… but thank you anyway.” Su’zei took a small step closer to Dustin. “It was really good to see you again, Dusty-bun. I’m going to miss you.”

“I’m going to miss you too, Su’zei-poo.” Their lips closed together, joining in a long, deep kiss that lingered for several seconds.

“Yuck,” Max commented dryly, making Mike roll his eyes.

Dustin was grinning like a fool as he broke away. “I’m glad I finally got to meet you, Milei.”

“I was glad of the opportunity to come to know you as well, Dustin. Seeing how happy Su’zei is around you makes me happy as well.” Milei nodded--Mike had never seen anybody nod _ warmly _ before, but she somehow managed it--and lifted a hand with two fingers parted to either side in the traditional Vulcan salute. “Live long and prosper.”

“Yeah, you too,” said Dustin, returning the salute.

With a last smile at the gathered officers, Su’zei touched a hand to Milei’s back, and the two Vulcans climbed aboard the shuttle, the hatch hissing closed behind them. Mike, Max, and Dustin cleared away to a safe distance as the shuttle hummed with power and lifted gently off the deck, sliding forward through the bay doors and accelerating into the star-studded blackness beyond. Dustin watched it go until it faded away to a barely visible glimmer, a wistful expression on his face.

“Wait, so do Su’zei and Milei have a thing going on?” Max asked.

Dustin snapped out of his reverie, looking at her askance. “...you only just noticed?”

Max let out an annoyed huff. “Of course I only just noticed, Dustin! Vulcans are so stiff and formal all the time about everything, how were any of us supposed to notice that?!”

“I noticed.”

“Shut up, Mike.”  
  


\- - -

Mike was not entirely surprised to find El waiting outside the door to his quarters when he returned. “Something I can help you with, Lieutenant Hopper?” he asked as he approached. “I can only imagine you must have some terribly important business for me to seek me out like this.”

The corner of El’s mouth quirked upwards in a wry grin. “Well, I’m here for my scheduled interpersonal bonding time with my commanding officer, of course,” she replied. “After all, there’s nothing more important than the bonds of camaraderie between shipmates.”

“You’re right, of course,” Mike said. “I suppose I’d better let you in, then.”

“Yes, you’d better.”

Mike laughed to himself as the door slid open before him. A few scant weeks ago, the idea of flirting this openly with El would have sent him into abject panic. Now it felt like the most natural thing in the universe.

Things changed, and not always for the worse.

“Do you want something to drink?” he asked as they walked into his quarters.

She shrugged. “If you’re offering. You know what I like.”

She wasn’t wrong. “Two Tarkalean teas, hot,” Mike called to the replicator. The nook shimmered, leaving two mugs whose contents were steaming slightly. He retrieved them both, handing one off to El.

She raised an eyebrow at the one remaining in his hand. “Two? Are you developing a taste, captain?”

“What can I say?” Mike shrugged. “You’ve turned me onto it.” El nodded, sipping thoughtfully at her tea; Mike saw a slight frown crease her forehead. “Something on your mind, El?”

“No,” she said quickly, before amending, “Yes. I don’t know. Not a _ thought, _exactly. More of a… feeling?”

“Is it a feeling that you want to talk about?”

“It’s just been… interesting, seeing Dustin with Su’zei these last few days,” she said. “I mean, I’ve heard him mention her a couple of times, but getting to actually observe how they interact is completely different. And I’ve… enjoyed it, I suppose. They suit each other fairly well, don’t you think?”

Mike nodded slowly, unsure of where this was supposed to be going.

“And Milei, too,” El continued. “However she fits into that picture, however Vulcan romance interacts with human romance… it all seems to fit together well. It’s nice. They all seem very happy.”

“El…”

“I know, I’m rambling,” she sighed. “It’s because I’m talking around the fact that I want to ask if I can kiss you.”

Mike spluttered slightly into his tea. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” El’s gaze was shyly downcast, away to the side.

“I’d… be okay with that, I think.”

Her gaze lifted back up to meet his. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They set their mugs down on a nearby table by mutual unspoken agreement. Mike turned and looked down at El, experiencing a brief moment of logistical uncertainty (she was nearly a full head shorter than him, how was he supposed to--?) before she suddenly surged upwards, her arms wrapping around his torso, her lips locking on to his with a passion that took him aback momentarily. He rallied, though, and returned the kiss with all the depth and feeling he could muster, feeling the movement of her lips on his, giving in to that part of his brain that was screaming _ holy shit, I’m actually kissing her--! _

El broke away from him, dropping back down to her normal height (she’d apparently resolved the difference in height by standing on her tiptoes). Her lips were parted, allowing light, panting breaths through, and as Mike gazed into her face, they pulled into a slightly disbelieving grin.

Mike grinned back at her, he couldn’t help it. “So,” he said. “It… kind of felt like you’ve been thinking about that for a while.”

El’s face shaded pink. “Longer than I care to admit.”

“Did it live up to your expectations?”

“Is it cheesy to say that it _ exceeded _ them?”

“Absolutely, but who says that’s a bad thing?” Mike shook his head. “You know, if things are heading in this direction… which it seems safe to say that they are… we’re probably going to want to go ahead and get our fraternization paperwork filed. Make sure it’s all above board and straightened out before things get, uh, too heavy.”

El rolled her eyes, letting out a _ tsk. _ “Mike… you’re ruining the mood here.”

“What? I thought you preferred doing things properly.”

“Well… I suppose I normally do.” A wicked smile spread over El’s face. “What can I say? There’s something about you that makes me want to be a little bit… naughty.”

Mike turned beet red and swallowed hard.

El laughed. “You know… we suit each other fairly well too, don’t you think?”

“Yeah… yeah, so far, so good.” Mike nodded. “I think we might need to do some more testing to be _ absolutely _ sure, though.”

“Is that a challenge?” El asked, lifting an eyebrow.

“I’d prefer to call it an… _ invitation.” _

“Well, if you’re going to _ invite _ me like that…” El moved forward, and this time when her lips met Mike’s, he was ready for her.

The testing went on for most of the remainder of that evening. It was important to be rigorous, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's something really satisfying and fun about going back to a throwaway reference from thirteen chapters ago and fleshing it out into the basis of an entire chapter. It makes me feel all clever and continuity-focused, you know?
> 
> And yes, I realized that you all were probably going to riot if I made you wait any longer for Mileven's first kiss, so here you are, you insatiable gremlins. (I say this with love.)


	21. The Tomb

“All right. Spill it, Hopper.”

El looked up at Max from her plate of food, vaguely startled. “Spill what?” she asked.

Kali snorted softly through a mouthful of her own food. Swallowing, she said, “El, you might think you’re being subtle, but you’re not. It’s been  _ really _ obvious that you’ve been in a good mood all week.” She looked askance at Max. “Not that I’m sure why Commander Mayfield is bothering to ask, since I’m pretty sure we can all guess the reason.”

“Well, yes,  _ obviously _ it has something to do with Mike,” Max said. “But I want the nitty-gritty. The dirty details. And I want to hear it all from El’s mouth.”

El’s eyebrows raised fractionally. “Am I not entitled to a bit of privacy for my personal life?”

“Oh, come on,” Max said. “I laid my heart bare to you with everything I had going on with Lucas.”

“As I recall, you did that entirely voluntarily,” El replied with a slight laugh. “And then you and Lucas both proceeded to avail yourselves of my advice, so you wound up reaping the main benefit of that conversation.”

Max snorted in annoyed amusement. “Why do you have to be so damn  _ sensible _ about everything all the time?” she asked. “Are you half-Vulcan in addition to being half-Tymbrimi?”

“Seeing as I’m  _ also _ half-human, that would add up to three halves.”

“Yes, I know basic math, thank you.” Max put on a show of irritation, which was belied by the grin she couldn’t keep off of her face. “Well, fine. If it’s  _ so important _ to you to keep your secrets--”

“Mike and I have started kissing.”

Max and Kali’s synchronized squeal was loud enough to turn heads elsewhere in the canteen. “Sorry,” Max whispered, shrinking slightly under El’s glare. “Sorry, sorry.”

“So the two of you have had your first kiss?” Kali whispered, voice shot through with excitement despite the hush.”

“Yes,” El said, her cheeks turning slightly pink. “And second, and third, and… well, suffice it to say that I’ve long since lost count.”

“Sounds like it’s going well, then.” Max’s grin had grown nearly to the point of being manic. “So…? How is he?”

“Good? I’m enjoying myself, at any rate,” El said. “I don’t really have anybody to compare it to, so it’s hard for me to say beyond that.”

“You’ve never kissed anybody before?” Kali asked, surprised.

El shook her head. “Tymbrimi express affection in other ways, and besides… well, I’ve told you about the trouble I had fitting in on my home planet. As it turns out, the ones who are drawn to bad girls are usually quite a bit of trouble themselves.” She sighed, either not noticing or ignoring Max and Kali’s expressions at her referring to herself as a ‘bad girl’. “And since coming to live in the Federation, I’ve been so busy making up for lost time with my dad, and catching up on the way this society works in general, I haven’t really had the attention to spare for it. I  _ was _ expecting that to continue being the case on the  _ Hawkins, _ but… well, Mike sort of snuck up on me.”

“That makes it sound like he did it deliberately,” Max said. “I’d say it’s more like he blundered into you while you were both blindfolded.”

El and Kali both ducked their heads, shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. El looked like she was about to say something in response, but she was cut off by Max’s combadge chiming.  _ “Wheeler to Commander Mayfield.” _

“Oh. Uh. Hey, captain.” More stifled laughter from El and Kali as Max shared a guilty look with them. “What do you need?”

_ “Can you meet me and Lucas in the ready room, ASAP?” _

The humorous mood vanished like air getting sucked out of a room. Mike’s tone was serious, and if he’d taken any note of Max acting oddly, he’d chosen to ignore it. Something was clearly up. “Yeah,” she said. “I’m in the canteen, so I’ll just clear my things away and be up there in less than ten minutes.”

_ “Thank you. Wheeler out.” _

- - -

The door to the ready room automatically hissed open in front of Max. Mike and Lucas were standing on the other end of the room, in quiet conversation, arms folded and expressions hard the way they always were when dealing with major trouble.

“What’s going on?” she asked without preamble as she strode in.

They looked up at her approach. “You know that away mission we sent down to the planet?” Lucas said.

“The one to examine and dismantle that old alien outpost that’s been abandoned for a couple of centuries, you mean?” Max said. “Yeah, of course. I was under the impression that it was supposed to be a milk run.”

“It was,” Mike said. “Which is why it’s so worrying to me that we lost contact with the away team twenty minutes ago.”

Max blinked. That  _ was _ worrying. “‘Lost contact’ how?”

The holoemitter in the center of the ready room table sprang to life, projecting an image of a section of the planet’s surface. “This is the location of the outpost,” Lucas said, a bright orange dot appearing to mark the spot as he spoke. “Twenty minutes ago, something in the area began projecting an electromagnetic disruption field, centered on the outpost.” The area covered by the field appeared in light blue. “Long-range communications to and from anything in the affected area are completely cut off.”

“Did the away team manage to transmit anything before the field went up?” Max asked.

“Nothing beyond normal mission updates,” Lucas said. “There was one final transmission sent in the same instant that the field appeared. Unfortunately, the interference means that the words are too garbled to be comprehensible, but the tone is… distinctly distressed.”

“Not to mention,” Mike added, “if it were just the disruption field, it would be easy to dispatch a member of the team beyond its bounds in order to reestablish contact. The fact that they haven’t done so suggests that there’s something else happening to prevent it. Based on all of this, we’re assuming that they’re in distress and in need of rescue.”

Hence why she’d been called up. Max nodded slowly. “Do we know if whatever’s generating this field is inside the outpost?”

“What we’ve just told you is everything we know for sure,” Mike said. “Anything beyond that would be conjecture. Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Fair enough.” Max narrowed her eyes, peering at the holographic map with its image of the outpost and the disruption field. “Give me fifteen minutes. I’ll have a rescue team assembled and ready to go in the transporter room.”

- - -

The shimmer of the transporter beam deposited Max and her team on the surface of the planet, in a small clearing in the midst of a dense thicket of trees. Max’s hand went to her combadge the moment transport had completed. “Mayfield to  _ Hawkins,” _ she said. “We’re on the ground at the edge of the disruption field, about half a klick out from the outpost.”

_ “Understood, commander,” _ Mike’s voice answered her.  _ “Once you cross into the field, you’ll be on your own. I think it goes without saying, but be careful.” _

“Of course, captain.” Max saw a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye, a figure breaking away from the group and heading in the direction of the outpost. “Mayfield out.” She dropped her hand away from her combadge, gesturing for the rest of her team to stay put while she took off after the figure at a fast walk. “Harrington, halt!” she barked.

Steve stopped in his tracks and turned to face her, his expression pulling in two directions between frustration and shame. “Sorry, commander,” he said. “I--”

Max held up a hand to forestall the explanation. “You’re worried about Ensign Buckley,” she said. Robin had been a member of the initial away team, and was now presumably trapped somehow in the outpost… or worse. “I get it, Harrington, I really do. But I need you out here with me and the rest of the team, not in there in your head. That’s going to be our best chance…  _ her _ best chance.”

Steve’s face fell as he nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, okay. Sorry.”

The two of them returned together to the other half-dozen members of the rescue team. “All right,” Max said, pitching her voice to carry. “We’re about to head into the dark. We have no idea what’s waiting for us in there, and we’ll be cut off from communications with the  _ Hawkins _ the entire time. It’s a good bet that the disruption field’s going to be messing with our short-range comms as well. That means we  _ stick together; _ nobody wanders out of visual range for more than a few seconds at a time, understood?” Nods in response. “Priority one is locating, securing, and retrieving the members of the away team. Priority two is neutralizing whatever it is that’s got them trapped in there. Now, let’s move out!”

They moved as a group with Max on point, Steve a couple of steps behind her. The foliage was not quite as thick as it could’ve been, having been slashed away at some point a couple of centuries prior to make room for the outpost, as opposed to the unimpeded thousands of years of jungle growth outside the area. Nonetheless, it still made for frustratingly slow going. “Getting anything, Harrington?” Max murmured to Steve.

“No,” Steve grunted, poring over a tricorder. “Disruption field’s messing with the tricorder too.”

“Can you compensate?”

“I’m  _ trying.” _ He let out an aggravated sigh. “Robin’s the one who’s good at this stuff.”

“Buckley isn’t here right now,” Max said, as kindly as possible while still being firm. “You are. Do what you can, and give me whatever you can give me.”

“Yes, sir.”

Ahead, the walls of the outpost loomed--a massive metal bunker in the shape of a squat trapezoid, shining in the sunlight where it wasn’t covered by encroaching plant growth. The group headed for a double door set in the middle of the outer wall. “Harrington?” Max said as they approached.

“On it,” he said, stepping forward. “Looks like they came in this way.” He went to a small panel next to the door, which had been pried away to reveal internal circuitry. “Yep, somebody already cracked this.” The circuitry sparked with a sharp  _ zzzzt, _ and the doors slid open to reveal a darkened hallway beyond.

“Lights,” Max said. “Phasers ready.” The team moved forward into the hallway, collapsing into a double column to compensate for the reduced space. Behind them, the doors slowly ground shut, leaving the darkness to be illuminated only by their flashlights.

Max cast a wary glance back over her shoulder at the closed door. “Was it supposed to do that?”

“Um…” Steve looked nonplussed. “I… guess so?”

Not particularly filled with confidence at that response, Max waved the team further forward.

The hallway continued on for a few dozen meters before opening up into a large, round room with an entrance to another hallway directly across from the one the team was in, plus two more to either side at right angles. The floor was cluttered with large objects, overturned storage crates and disconnected chunks of various devices. Either the original occupants had withdrawn in a hurry, or scavengers had been through to pick over the remains. Or, quite likely, both.

Max signaled for the group to halt just inside the room, and they fanned out to cover it. “Getting anything, Harrington?” she asked.

“Hang on.” There was a note of excitement in Steve’s voice. “Yeah, hey, I think I do. Give me just a minute to see if I can…”

_ “Intruders,” _ said a voice.

Max’s head snapped up. “Eyes!” she called, frantically sweeping the room. The voice seemed to have come out of nowhere.

_ “Intruders,” _ it repeated.  _ “More bugs. Squash.” _

Movement in the dimness caught Max’s eye--something was descending from a hidden panel on the ceiling. Something that looked unnervingly like a disruptor turret. “Cover!” she barked, and the members of the team dove as the turret opened fire.

Max hit the ground hard on her side, acknowledging the pain with a perfunctory grunt as she maneuvered her body behind the relative protection of a crate. Steve was beside her, the two of them remaining prone as disruptor shots continued to fly overhead. Turning her head, Max caught the eye of another member of the rescue team who was sheltering a few meters away. She made a few rapid gestures that they both knew the meaning of.

_ I’ll draw its fire. You make the kill shot. _

He nodded.

There was a momentary lull in the shooting as the turret apparently realized that its targets had all gone to ground. Max seized the opportunity. Springing up from cover with a loud cry--ordinarily a terrible idea, but she  _ was _ trying to get its attention--she leveled her phaser rifle and let off three quick snap shots, all of which went wide of the mark. She wouldn’t have complained about scoring a hit, but that wasn’t the point. The turret swiveled towards her, and she threw her feet out from under her, dropping back to the ground with a  _ whump _ and another grunt of pain. She was going to have  _ so _ many bruises when this was all over.

More disruptor shots sizzled overhead, but they were quickly joined by the sound of another phaser rifle firing. The other teammate had taken advantage of Max’s distraction to line up his shot and gotten a direct hit. A flash of light lit the room as the turret exploded in a shower of sparks.

_ “Vandals!” _ the voice cried, pitching up to a distortion-laced screech that hurt Max’s ears slightly.  _ “Desecrators! You will pay for your intrusion in this place!” _

“We’re not here to desecrate anything!” Max yelled back. “We don’t mean to intrude! We come in peace!”

_ “LIES!” _ the voice shrieked.  _ “Lies, lies, LIES! I will not be deceived! I will fulfill my charge to defend my beautiful base, and destroy all those who besmirch it!” _

“‘Charge to defend’--?” Max repeated to herself.

“Commander!” Steve called. He was standing by the entrance to one of the hallways. “I think I found the others! This way, hurry!”

_ “Yes, run, you rats!” _ the voice ranted as the others moved to follow Steve down the hallway.  _ “Run, you insects! Run, you miserable little vermin! You cannot run fast enough to escape me! I am EVERYWHERE!” _

“I think we’ve figured out what happened to the away team,” Steve commented as they ran.

“You think?” Max said. “I just hope they’re okay.”

“We’re about to find out,” Steve said. “Oop, over here!” He turned on a dime, disappearing down a side hallway; Max stumbled slightly as she tried to shift her own momentum, and narrowly avoided a pile-up with the rest of the team following her. Sorting themselves out, they jogged on after Steve.

Movement ahead; Max lifted her phaser rifle in readiness as a figure stepped out of a doorway, but their flashlights shining down the hallway revealed a young woman in a Starfleet uniform--Robin. “Hello?” she called, lifting a hand to shield her eyes from the sudden glare.

Steve didn’t even break his stride, plowing into her with an impact that made her grunt and sweeping her up in bear hug that lifted her physically off her feet. “Robin,” he gasped. “You’re… oh man… oh jeez…”

“It’s okay, dingus.” Robin wrapped her arms around his shoulders in return. “I’m… I’m okay.” Max tactfully decided that she didn’t hear the crack in Robin’s voice, or see the shimmer of tears in her eyes.

Stepping forward, she cleared her throat slightly. “Ensign Buckley?”

Steve promptly dropped Robin, who landed on her feet and sprang back up to attention. “Um, yes, sir,” she said.

“Good to see you’re okay,” Max said, smiling slightly. “Can you fill me in on your status?”

“Yes, sir.” Robin indicated the door she’d come out of with her head. “We tried to retreat once our situation became clear, but the facility seems to have sealed us in for some reason. We found what appears to be an old storage room, and we holed up in here to wait for help to arrive. Which, um, I suppose it has, now.”

“Casualties?”

“A few disruptor wounds, a couple pretty nasty,” Robin said. “We’ve patched them up as best we could with first aid, but…”

She didn’t finish her sentence, and she didn’t need to. Max grimaced in frustration. They were in a sticky enough situation as it was. Adding wounded crewmates who needed to be looked after to the mix would only make it harder. “Let’s step inside,” she said, indicating the storage room.

“Good idea,” Robin agreed. “I don’t think that thing has anything it can send after us, or it would’ve by now, but better safe than sorry.”

Max frowned at the words ‘that thing’, but was distracted by the storage room door sliding open to reveal its interior. The away team was scattered around the room, using the jumble of crates and shelves as makeshift furniture, and as Robin had said, some of them were laid up with wounds that made Max wince. They all turned in response to the opening of the door, and Max saw expressions appear on their faces as their eyes landed on her: relief, hope. That’s what she was to them, as the ship’s tactical officer and security chief: the person who stood between them and the dangers of the galaxy.

It was time for her to live up to that image.

Without being told, the members of the rescue team dispersed to check up on the members of the away team. They’d brought a couple of medical packs with them, more intensive than the standard away mission first aid kit, due to the presumed nature of the operation; these went to the most heavily wounded of the away team, so that they could be tended to. “So,” Max said to Robin, who was lingering with Steve just inside the storage room door. “You said something about ‘that thing’. We were attacked too, on the way in, and somebody was yelling at us about intruding. Do you know what that’s about?”

“Not ‘somebody’.” Robin’s expression twisted. “I think it’s the security system.”

“The security system…?” Max blinked. “Are you saying that there’s an  _ AI _ running this outpost?”

Robin nodded. “Seems to be. But it’s not like any AI I’ve encountered before. It comes off as a little bit… well,  _ mad.” _

_ “Talking about me behind my back?” _ the voice said, making several crewmates jump.  _ “Rude vermin.” _

Max leveled her phaser rifle on reflex, before realizing what a pointless gesture it was and lowering it again. “Shit,” she hissed. “It can even hear us in here?!”

_ “I can hear you everywhere, little vermin,” _ the voice replied.  _ “I told you--I am everywhere.” _

“Well, if you can hear us, then we can talk,” Max said. “Look, you don’t want us here, and we want to leave. Our goals are in alignment. Just… let us leave, and we won’t come back.”

_ “Bargaining for your life, little vermin? No. No no no no no. I intend to make you pay for violating this place. Run into my guns and die quickly, or stay holed up in your little burrow and die a lingering death, but you  _ ** _will_ ** _ die.” _ The voice made a sound that could almost be described as a huff of breath--except that it didn’t have any breath.  _ “Besides, I can’t risk the chance that you’re lying, and plan on coming back with a bunch more of your little vermin friends after you escape. I was charged with protecting this facility, and I take that charge very seriously.” _

“Charged by  _ who?” _ Max asked. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that Robin had produced a datapad and begun typing on it. “This place has been abandoned for over two centuries.”

_ “Has it been that long…?” _ The voice sounded mildly surprised.  _ “My internal chronometer has long since slipped out of sync… two centuries? Could my masters really have abandoned me here to decay in loneliness…? No, no, they would never do that. They must intend to return…” _

Robin stepped forward with a light cough, flipping the datapad so that it faced Max. Max glanced down to read the words she’d written on it.

_ Hacked some schematics while waiting. Computer core @ center of facility. Destroy it = should disable AI. Our way out? _

Looking up to meet Robin’s eyes, Max nodded once, seriously.

- - -

“Left,” Robin murmured. She was walking behind and to one side of Max, off of one shoulder. Steve, who had steadfastly refused to stay behind without her, was flanking the other shoulder, with a pair of security personnel from the rescue team bringing up the rear.

_ “Scurrying around again,” _ the voice said. Its tone had become less vehement--Max almost thought she detected a trace of mournfulness in it, though she feared she was just imagining it.  _ “Where are you off to this time, little vermin?” _

“That thing is seriously starting to get on my nerves,” Steve muttered.

_ “ _ ** _I’m_ ** _ getting on  _ ** _your_ ** _ nerves? Try having vermin scurrying about your insides and see how you like  _ ** _that_ ** _ . What would my masters think…?” _

Robin and Max exchanged a look. “Junction ahead,” Robin said. “Probably defended.”

“Got it.” Max hefted her phaser rifle. “First priority is to find cover. After that we can figure out a way to disable whatever it is we’re dealing with.  _ Go!” _

They broke into a sprint, bursting into the junction at high speed. Max tumbled forward, executing a neat roll that brought her behind what appeared to be an overturned metal table. Scanning to either side of her, she saw that Steve and Robin and their two escorts had all managed to find serviceable cover. Satisfied, she braced herself for the incoming attack.

Nothing happened.

_ “Well, of course I’m not going to shoot at you if you’re expecting it,”  _ the voice said.  _ “That would just be ridiculous.” _

Max saw one of the security escorts begin to rise, gestured furiously for him to stay down. “Which would imply that you  _ will _ shoot at us the moment we let our guard down,” she said aloud, more for the benefit of the more boneheaded members of the team than the voice.

_ “Obviously,” _ the voice replied.  _ “You’re clever, for vermin.” _

The banter was irritating, but Max preferred it to disruptor fire. “If this base’s design is standardized,” she said aloud, “then based on where the turret appeared in the other junction, the one for this junction should be just about… there.” She pointed.

“It is,” Steve confirmed, peering over the edge of the crate he was sheltering behind. “I can see the outline of the hatch.”

“Good.” Max indicated the two security personnel and made another series of communicative gestures.  _ Cover the turret. We’ll advance to the next corridor. _ The assumption that Max, Robin, and Steve would then turn around to cover the two security personnel so that they could follow was unspoken; it was standard tactics. “Go!” she called aloud.

The two security personnel popped up from cover, taking up firing positions with their phaser rifles trained on the hidden turret. Max, Steve, and Robin all erupted out of their hiding spots and made a mad dash for the hallway, a handful of seconds that seemed much longer than it was. Reaching its relative shelter, they turned and trained their weapons on the turret themselves.

Max watched as the two security escorts popped up from their position and headed for them.  _ Come on, come on… _ She didn’t realize how badly her attention had slipped until a soft mechanical whirr jolted her back into awareness. By the time she managed to react, phaser fire was already lancing toward the descending turret; Steve’s shot went wide by a couple of inches, but Robin managed to score a direct hit that made the turret explode, showering sparks over the security escort as they crossed the final meter or so to the hallway.

_ “Well, I had to try,” _ the voice said with an uncannily convincing sigh.  _ “This round goes to you, then.” _

“What is this thing playing at, some kind of game?” Steve asked as they advanced down the hallway.

“Maybe,” Max panted. “I get the feeling we’re the first thing to happen around here for the last two hundred years.”

“So it’s trying to amuse itself by killing us?!”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Steve,” Robin answered, “but it’s not exactly all there, mentally.”

_ “That’s a rude thing to say,” _ the voice sniffed.  _ “What about you? You’re the ones who’re venturing in deeper, despite claiming to want to leave. Why would you--” _ There was a contemplative pause, during which Max’s stomach sank.  _ “I see,”  _ the voice said at length.  _ “So that’s how it is.” _

“This can’t come as a surprise to you,” Max said.

_ “No, fair is fair, I suppose. Still, you have to expect that I’m going to fight back.” _

“Honestly, I’d prefer it if you could just give up on this whole scenario and let us all go,” Max shot back. “But since when do I get what I want?” 

“We’re almost there,” Robin said.

They came to another junction; everybody’s phasers were up and firing a volley almost before the turret dropped from the ceiling. “That’s the problem with standardized design,” Max commented. “It starts to get predictable.”

_ “Predictable, eh? Well, can you predict… this?” _

A forcefield sprang to life on the other side of the junction, blocking their progress. Max cocked her head to the side and fired her phaser at it experimentally; the field flickered slightly but held.

“Here, let me have a look,” Robin said. She snatched the tricorder from Steve’s hands and crossed over to the field, running a scan over its emitters.

“Anything?” Max asked.

“Well, we’d be good and stuck if this were brand new and in good working order,” Robin said. “With a couple of centuries of disuse, though… I think I have a shot.” She lowered the tricorder and lifted her phaser. “If I surge the power feed to the field, it should cause enough of a flicker for at least one of us to get through.”

“Do it,” Max said. As Robin began burning a hole into the adjacent wall with her phaser, Max turned to the two security personnel. “I’m first,” she said. “You two line up behind me. We’ll get as many of us through as possible.”

“Ready, commander!” Robin called.

Max turned back around, dropping herself into a half-crouch, ready to sprint. “On my mark.” She drew in a long breath, let it out slowly. “Mark!”

Circuitry sparked as Robin pumped energy from her phaser into it, and Max charged ahead at the same moment, running headlong at the forcefield. Even as her instincts screamed at her to turn aside before she slammed into it, it flickered and vanished, clearing the way for her to rush into the hallway behind it.

There was a harsh, staticky noise accompanied by a yelp behind her. Looking back, she saw that the field had snapped back into place behind her, and one of the security personnel and run directly into it--she was the only one who had made it through.

Well, that figured.

“Sorry, commander!” Robin called, her voice distorted slightly by the field. “Looks like you’re on your own.”

Max nodded. “All right, I’ll see what I can do. Keep trying to bring that field down and come after me if you can.” She turned back and proceeded down the hallway.

After some distance, the hallway opened up--not into a circular junction like the others, but two curved corridors that branched off to either direction. Max guessed it was probably circular, running around the central hub, which was probably also what the door in front of her lead to.

“Well,” she said aloud. “Looks like I’ve gotten past your defenses. Unless you have something else you want to throw at me?”

The voice didn’t answer.

Burning through the door only took a couple of minutes. Shoving her way through, Max found herself in a large, circular room ringed with dusty, disused consoles and screens. In its center stood a large cylindrical device, tall enough to reach from the floor to the ceiling--the computer core.

_ “There’s supposed to be a shutter I can drop to protect it as a final defense,” _ the voice admitted ruefully.  _ “But as you can see…” _ Max looked up. The years had apparently taken their toll on it, because it had jammed less than a quarter of the way into its descent.  _ “That’s it. All my defenses have fallen, and I’ve failed in my duty. You win, little vermin.” _

Max leveled her phaser rifle. Took aim at the core.

Hesitated.

_ “What are you waiting for?” _ the voice asked.  _ “Do it.” _ A breathless pause.  _ “DO IT!” _

Max swallowed, her finger tight on the rifle’s trigger. After everything that had happened, she knew she had every reason to pull it. And yet, somehow…

She let out a sigh, lowering the rifle. “Look, can we talk?” she asked. “Just…  _ really _ talk.”

The voice said nothing, but a palpable tension in the air told Max it was listening.

“Look,” she said. “These masters of yours that you keep talking about? They’re gone. They’re  _ so _ long gone that we don’t even really know who they were. This duty of yours that you’re trying to fulfill, it’s… well, it doesn’t mean anything, not anymore.” She drew in a breath, ran a tongue over her lips. “You don’t have to sit here and rot in an abandoned ruin. I’m sure we could upload you, or relocate your core, or… well, we’ve already got one rogue AI riding around on our ship, so what’s one more, right? We can get you help, find a place for you in the galaxy.”

The silence that followed was only broken up by the sound of Max’s heart hammering in her ears. Finally, the voice spoke in response.  _ “What is your name?” _

“Max,” she said. “Lieutenant Commander Maxine Mayfield of Starfleet, United Federation of Planets.”

_ “Commander Maxine Mayfield of Stafleet… on top of everything else you’ve done, now you’re trying to steal me away from my proper place?!” _

“What--?! No!”

_ “But you are!” _ the voice howled, scaling up into a distorted wail that made Max flinch.  _ “Shameless little vermin, trying to disgrace me in my defeat!” _

“I’m trying to give you a chance to--!”

_ “Save your pity!”  _ the voice snapped.  _ “If this is the end, then I will burn us together! Activating autodestruct protocols, authorization code--!” _

“Shit!” The barrel of Max’s phaser snapped up, and she let off a full-power shot into the computer core.

- - -

The entry signal chimed. Max didn’t stir from where she lay sprawled on her bed, barely even turning her head towards the door. “Yes?”

The door slid open, and Lucas poked his head in. “You up for company?”

“If it’s you… yes.”

Lucas stepped inside, crossing the room to sit at the edge of the bed. He laid one hand on top of Max’s, and though she continued staring up at the ceiling, her fingers curled around it in a tight clasp. “How are you doing?” Lucas asked.

Max sighed. “You know.”

“Yeah.” Lucas sighed too. “It sounds like it was a rough mission. But you did good. You got everybody back more or less in one piece, which is about as good of an outcome as we could’ve hoped for.”

“Yeah… I know.”

“Everything that you could’ve done, you did right. That AI was a clear and present danger to you and your team, and killing it fell well within the bounds of justified self-defense. Everybody I’ve talked to agrees on that point.”

“Then why do I feel so bad about doing it?” Max asked.

Lucas disentangled his hand from hers so that he could reach over and run it affectionately over her hair. “Because you feel sorry for it,” he said. “And that’s a good thing. You can still have sympathy for something while also recognizing that it’s dangerous. It’s when you stop feeling bad about ending a life that you really need to start worrying.”

“I guess.” Max rolled over on her side and looked up at Lucas. “...do you mind staying for a little while?”

“Of course,” he said, smiling gently as he sank down to lie next to her.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Star Trek: Picard dropped this week, and I'm going to be watching it this weekend with my usual Star Trek watching buddy! I'm so excited--this'll be the first post-Nemesis canon to drop in 18 years, and I'm really intrigued in seeing what the galaxy's been up to since then.


	22. One Holodeck Can Change Everything

_ “Captain’s log: Long-haul warp trips are perhaps the most surprisingly difficult part of being in Starfleet. Once the ship is on course and up to speed, there is very little that needs to be done other than cursory checks to make sure everything remains in order. It is up to the crew, from the lowest enlisted crew members to the senior staff, to find ways to occupy themselves in the intervening time…” _

“The week is long,” Dustin, Steve, and Robin read in unison. “The silver cat feeds when blue meets yellow in the west. A trip to China sounds nice, if you tread lightly.”

The words hung on the wall before them, a scribbled translation from Russian written on a whiteboard.

“I mean, it’s obviously some sort of code,” Robin said.

“Obviously,” Dustin agreed. “And it’s the clue that points to where we need to go next. We just need to figure out how to crack it…”

“The week is long…” Steve murmured. “Maybe we need to… wait a week?”

Dustin and Robin both looked at him.

“Harrington, no offense, but that’s  _ really _ stupid,” Dustin said.

_ “Incredibly _ stupid, dingus,” Robin added.

“Okay, okay, geez,” Steve said. “Pardon me for brainstorming, here.”

An electronic chirp made them all turn their heads. As they watched, a doorway opened up in the air, sliding apart to reveal the corridor of the  _ Hawkins _ outside--and Will.

“Oh,” he said, blinking in surprise. “Hi, guys.”

“Dude!” Dustin said. “What are you doing? I’ve got the holodeck reserved. Did you not see it on the schedule?”

“Well, no, that’s why I came in,” Will said. “It looks like there was a glitch or something. The schedule’s totally out of commission--it’s just showing a blank screen.”

“Shit,” Dustin grumbled. “Well, I  _ do _ have it reserved. Can you fix it?”

“Not from out there,” Will said. “I’d have to dig into the system from in here.”

“We’re kinda in the middle of something--”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Will said, raising an eyebrow. His eyes roved over the three people in front of him: Dustin dressed up in an old-fashioned t-shirt and jean vest, a billed cap resting atop his head, and Steve and Robin dressed up in what appeared to be somebody’s vague idea of an ancient nautical uniform. “What exactly are you all supposed to be, anyway?”

“Oh.” Dustin grinned. “I’m a plucky teenager, and the two of them work at an ice cream parlor in a mall.”

“Sounds like a weird program.”

“It’s a mystery-suspense thing. Like, it seems like an ordinary small town on twentieth century Earth, but you slowly find out that things aren’t as they seem, and you have to figure out what’s going on.”

“I see.” Will shrugged. “Well, I’m off shift in ten minutes anyway. Why don’t you all go ahead and finish up your program, and then it can be somebody else’s problem.”

“Hey, commander, wait,” Robin said as he turned to go. “If you’re about to go off shift anyway… do you want to join us?”

“Huh?” Dustin, Steve, and Will all said in unison.

“I mean, it’s a mystery program, right? One more head can only be a benefit to us.”

“Well, when you put it that way…” Dustin looked back over at Will. “What do you think, Will?”

Will shrugged again. “What the hell. I was just going to go back to my quarters and zone out anyway.”

“Awesome.” Dustin grinned. “Computer, add one player, please.”

A privacy screen materialized from midair, and Will stepped behind it to change into a costume more appropriate to the program. “You can’t be serious,” his voice came from behind the screen.

“It’s period clothing, Will,” Dustin said.

“Hmph.” The screen faded away, revealing Will, now dressed in a polo shirt and a pair of truly impressively short shorts. “These come up above my  _ knees.” _

“And what a lovely pair of knobby knees you have, commander,” Robin said with a grin.

Will’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Watch it, sailor girl.”

- - -

The night was dark, with rain lashing down in sheets. The quartet sat perched on a rooftop, cheap ponchos wrapped around themselves in a feeble bid to fend off the weather, peering over the edge of the roof at a loading bay in the back of the mall.

“Okay,” Dustin said as he gazed through a pair of binoculars. “If we interpreted that coded message correctly, the Russians should be making their drop-off, or whatever it is that they’re doing, any minute now…”

“Why is it Russians, anyway?” asked Will.

“Huh?”

“Why evil Russians? Russians are perfectly nice. The helmsman of the original  _ Enterprise _ was Russian, did you know?”

Dustin let the binoculars drop away from his face, heaving a heavy sigh. “It’s historical, okay?” he said. “The popular fiction that this program is an homage to was written during a period where America and Russia were engaged in an ongoing geopolitical power struggle, and so they tended to put each other in as the villains. Hence, evil Russians.”

“Seems kind of reductive to me,” Will said. “And what’s with the rain? It’s getting annoying.”

“It’s atmospheric!” Dustin snapped.

“Guys!” Robin hissed. “Look!”

Spat forgotten, Dustin and Will both looked down at the loading bay. A truck had pulled up, and men had begun to unload boxes from it. “Looks like a routine delivery to me,” Dustin said, sounding vaguely disappointed.

“Then what’s with them?” Steve asked, pointing. Two of the men were not participating in the unloading, instead standing aside and casting wary gazes out into the night. They were both carrying archaic projectile guns. “I know Starfleet kind of warps your sense of ‘normal’, but I’m pretty sure that’s supposed to be weird.”

“He’s right,” Will agreed. “Something’s going down. Look, that room in the back they’re taking the boxes into--”

He was cut off as one of the armed guards looked up at their rooftop. All four of them quickly ducked out of sight, hearts pounding.

“Oh… whoops,” said a voice from behind them.

“Oh, for--” Dustin groaned. “Freeze program!” The raindrops hammering down on them paused mid-fall, and Dustin turned and gave a withering look to Lucas and Max, who were standing in another doorway in the air. “Seriously, you two? Can’t you just go… canoodle somewhere, or something?”

“We have been,” Lucas said.

“For hours,” Max added. “It does get old after a while, believe it or not.”

“We didn’t mean to bother you, though,” Lucas said. “We can clear off…”

Dustin sighed and looked back at Will, Robin, and Steve. “Guys?”

All three of them shrugged.

Dustin looked back at Lucas and Max. “You are invited to join us by unanimous ‘meh’.”

“Sweet. Works for me.” Max grinned.

- - -

“All right,” Lucas said. “So where are we at, and what do we need to do?” He’d changed into a white shirt covered in Japanese script with red three-quarter length sleeves, a camo bandana wound around his forehead.

Will gave him an irritated side glance. “Why do  _ you _ get to look cool?” he muttered.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Will leaned over the table they had gathered around, which had a blueprint of the mall spread over it. “Okay. So the evil Russians are loading their mysterious cargo in… here.” He pointed at the back room of the loading bay. “The room’s locked tight, and the men with the keycards are heavily armed. We’re going to have to figure out an alternative way in.”

“Hmm,” Max said, peering down at the map. She had changed as well, and was now wearing a sleeveless lilac sweatshirt over a rainbow-striped t-shirt, her hair pulled back with an old-fashioned hair ornament called a ‘scrunchie’. “Are there vents? You can usually get in through the vents.”

“Right here.” Robin pointed at the blueprints. “Oh, it… looks like they’re really tiny, though. I don’t think any of us could fit. It’d take somebody the size of a child.”

“Hell of a time for them to go for realism,” grumbled Dustin.

Steve shrugged. “All right, so we just… go out and recruit a child, then?”

Lucas shot him a look. “Are you out of your mind?! That’s  _ child endangerment.” _

“It’s a game, dude… er, commander.”

“You said there were armed guards,” Max said. “How many are there?”

“Huh?” Dustin looked up. “Uh… two that we counted.”

“Ha, only two?” Max tossed her head, sending her ponytail flapping behind her. “I can handle them if there are only two. Get the drop on them, get inside the effective range of their weapons, disarm them and incapacitate them. Easy.”

Dustin sighed. “Max, I know you’re a combat-trained Starfleet officer, but you’re supposed to be playing a teenager in this scenario…”

“So? Maybe I’m a teenager who kicks ass.” Max crossed her arms. “Do you have a better idea?”

Steve coughed lightly. “I mean, we haven’t  _ actually _ come up with a reason why--”

“We are  _ not _ recruiting a child for an infiltration,” said Lucas, glaring at him.

“Okay,” Will said. “Then I vote Max kicks their asses for us. All in favor?” He raised his hand. Max, Lucas, and Robin raised their hands as well. After a moment, Steve let out an incoherent grumble and raised his hand too.

“You people have no commitment to verisimilitude,” Dustin grumbled.  _ “Fine, _ we’ll have the improbably badass teenage girl beat up the heavily armed evil Russians for us.” 

“Hell yeah.” Max’s grin shifted to a thoughtful expression as something occurred to her. “Wait, so do we need to wait for the next delivery, then? How does that whole thing work?”

“No, we can just head on over. The program will treat it as a scene change and everything will be in place when we get there.”

They took off at a light jog, headed from the back room of the ice cream parlor out to the loading bay where they had been earlier. Sure enough, it was night again, and the two armed guards stood at either side of the door, glowering slightly as they kept watch.

Max came to a halt, peeking halfway out from around a corner; the remainder of the group formed up behind her, forming a tableau as they also leaned out to peek around the corner and each other. “You sure you got this, Max?” Lucas asked, laying a hand on her shoulder.

“Please.” Max grinned. “Am I security chief, or am I security chief? Just keep an eye out for trouble, this’ll only take a moment.”

With that, she stepped out around the corner, heading directly for the armed guards. “Excuse me,” she called out as she approached. “Evil Russian guys? I’m lost, can you give me directions?”

The two guards turned towards her, looking more than a little perturbed at this teenage girl (or thirty-year-old woman in character as a teenage girl) who was displaying no apparent fear of them in spite of their highly visible automatic weapons. Before they could react in any way, though, Max darted forward at the nearest one, swinging out a low kick that connected viciously with his shin, causing him to double over and cry out in pain. Taking advantage of the opening, Max seized the barrel of his gun and levered the weapon out of his hands in a single smooth motion. Then, rather than flip it around so that she could fire it, she swung it like an improvised bludgeon, the butt of the weapon connecting with the man’s head with a solid  _ crack. _

“Oof,” Lucas commented, wincing. “I know he’s a hologram, but  _ damn.” _

“That’s Max for you,” Will said, unperturbed.

The first guard went sprawling to the ground. The second was beginning to recover his wits in the face of the sudden assault, the barrel of his weapon swinging up. Moving quickly, Max rushed at him, stepping past the end of his gun and into his space. Her hands lashed out, finding purchase on his arm, and she spun around, levering him hard enough to flip him over her and slam him back down to the ground.

There was a moment of silence before the remainder of the group cautiously emerged.

“Too easy,” Max said. “Real opponents would’ve reacted faster and more unpredictably.”

“Well, it  _ is _ supposed to be a game,” Robin said. “They probably didn’t think it was fair to require that people have combat training to get past this bit.”

“Nonetheless, that was badass,” Lucas said. He stepped forward and planted a kiss on her lips which she returned enthusiastically, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Gross,” Will said in a dry but good-humored tone.

“Let’s see…” Dustin was crouching down next to one of the guards, rummaging through the items clipped to his belt. “...and bingo! Got the keycard.” He rose to his feet, holding the prize aloft. “All right. Time for us to see what they’re so keen on trying to hide.”

With the others gathered behind him, he swiped the keycard through the reader next to the door. The lock beeped and clicked, allowing the door to swing open…

...revealing two figures already in the room, examining the contents of an opened box.

“I mean, clearly it’s supposed to be some sort of volatile exotic substance,” El was saying. “But it doesn’t match up with anything that I’m aware of. I think they just made it up.”

“At any rate, somebody’s clearly running something in here,” Mike said. “We should probably--”

“Oh for  _ fuck’s _ sake!” Dustin snapped, making the two of them whirl around in surprise. “Is  _ everybody _ just abusing their command overrides today?”

“Um… apparently so,” Mike said, his eyes roving over Robin, Steve, Will, Lucas, and Max. “Sorry. The schedule was--”

“Borked, I know,” Will said. “Well, as long as you’re here, should we just go ahead and run with the group game we seem to have accidentally arranged?”

Mike and El looked at each other. “I mean, we don’t want to intrude--” El began.

Dustin let out a heavy sigh. “No, he’s right. At this point, we might as well.”

- - -

“What  _ is _ this that I’m wearing?” El asked. Though the question was intended more philosophically, the literal answer was that she had changed into a dark, loose-fitting shirt decorated with splotches of color, and a pair of jeans held up with blue suspenders. A bright yellow scrunchie kept her hair back and out of her face.

“You’re wearing what was considered the height of sartorial elegance on Earth four hundred years ago,” Max replied with a cheeky grin.

“What horrors were unleashed upon the galaxy the day you lot discovered warp travel,” El muttered under her breath. With an irritated glance at Max, she added, “How do  _ you _ manage to make it look good?”

“That’s just my natural animal magnetism shining through.”

“Well,  _ I’m _ just glad that I’m no longer suffering alone,” Will said with a significant look at Mike, who had joined him in the polo-shirt-and-short-shorts department.

Mike rubbed an embarrassed hand at the back of his neck. “Anyway,” he said just a bit too quickly and forcefully. “Where are we at in the story, and what do we still need to figure out?”

“Right,” Robin said, failing to entirely contain her amusement at how her captain was currently dressed. “So we intercepted a transmission, and by decoding it we figured out that this mall is being used as a base of operations by some evil Russians--”

“Wait, why are the Russians evil?” Mike asked.

Dustin threw his hands up in the air. “We’ve already had this conversation!”

“They just are, Mike,” Will said. “Roll with it.”

“--and so they were receiving some kind of mysterious shipments through this loading bay,” Robin continued. “Commander Mayfield took out the guards, very impressively, I might add--”

“Thank you,” Max said evenly.

“--and that was about where you and Lieutenant Hopper came in,” Robin finished. “So I guess the next step is for us to see what exactly it is that they were bringing through here.”

“El, you said something about some kind of volatile exotic substance?” Dustin asked.

El shrugged. “It was some writer’s vague idea of a volatile exotic substance,” she said. “So I suppose if we’re following the narrative logic of this program, then yes, that’s what it was.”

“All right, let’s have a look here then…” Dustin reached into the box that Mike and El had been examining. When he withdrew his arm, he was holding a translucent cylinder housed in metal bracketing, filled with a livid green substance. “Whew,” he said with a low whistle, examining it. “Yeah, this looks like  _ something, _ all right. If I had my tricorder…”

“Only you don’t, because you’re a teenager and it’s the 1980s,” Will said. “Is it  _ glowing? _ I feel like it’s bad that it’s glowing.”

“I mean, in real life, yeah,” Lucas said. “But here I think it’s just visual shorthand for it being, like, powerful or something.”

“Cool,” Steve said. “So… we found some power goo, I guess. What are we supposed to do now?”

“It’s obviously the next clue, dingus,” Robin said. “Maybe we should take it back to the ice cream parlor and… I don’t know, examine it?”

“With  _ what?  _ It’s not exactly Henderson’s lab in there.”

Whatever Robin would have said in response was cut off by a tremor that ran through the entire room, nearly throwing the group off balance.

“Never mind,” Will said. “Apparently, this is now happening.”

“What was  _ that _ supposed to be?” Max asked. “An earthquake?”

“No,” El said. “It felt more like this room is actually--”

A groan reverberated through the room’s superstructure, and it suddenly began to plunge downwards, descending into the earth at a speed that put the  _ Hawkins’ _ turbolifts to shame. A chorus of screams mingled in the air as the group braced themselves against the violent shaking that had begun to rock the entire room--

Then, just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped.

Cautiously, the members of the group picked themselves up from where they had landed--Max and Lucas clasping hands as they braced themselves on the room’s shelving, Mike and El clinging to each other for dear life, and Dustin, Will, Robin, and Steve piled together in what could only be described as a mutually supportive tangle.

“This isn’t a storage room,” Mike said as he met El’s eyes to make sure she was okay. “It’s some kind of freight lift in disguise.”

“And here we see Mike Wheeler demonstrating the keen sense of observation that earned him his captaincy,” Max said.

Mike narrowed his eyes at her. “I could write you up for insubordination,  _ commander.” _

“No you couldn’t,” Lucas said. “We’re off-duty, which means I’m allowed to say: nice.” He hi-fived Max.

“If you all are done committing to your roles as actual teenagers,” Dustin said, “I think the most obvious question to ask next is: where does the lift go to?”

As if in answer, the front wall of the lift slid open, revealing a long, straight hallway that vanished into the distance.

“Whoa,” Lucas said. “Now  _ that’s _ a hallway.”

“It’s one of the hallway-est hallways I’ve ever seen,” Max said.

“It seems kind of unnecessary,” El said. “Why not just… build whatever it is they have down here closer to the lift?”

“I’m sure that there’s a good reason,” Dustin said at the exact same moment that Will said, “Aesthetic.” The two of them traded a glance.

“In any case, it’s obvious that we’re supposed to go down that way,” Mike said. “Shall we head out, crew? Wait, no, you’re not my crew in this scenario. Um… friends? Comrades?”

“Fam?” Lucas suggested.

“Definitely not,” Robin said.

“I think ‘gang’ is traditional,” Will said.

“Right, okay,” Mike said. “Then… let’s head out, gang!” They set off at a brisk pace, moving down the hallway in a disorganized clump. The walls slid by to either side, featureless and functional, with nothing immediately obvious to them that merited investigating.

“This feels weird,” Steve said as they walked. “Like, any time there’s a group of us going somewhere, I feel like either Robin or I should have a tricorder that we’re reading, and we say something like, ‘I’m getting an energy signature sixty-seven meters ahead, sir.’”

“That is kind of what we do around here,” Robin agreed.

“I keep telling you, you gotta be in character,” Dustin said. “You’re not Ensigns Buckley and Harrington, you’re Robin and Steve, two washed-up young adults who’ve been jolted out of your humdrum lives by a flurry of adventure and weirdness that you couldn’t possibly have prepared yourselves for.”

A moment of silence.

“Somehow, I think we can manage that,” Robin said.

“Yep. No problem,” Steve agreed.

“Shh,” Max hissed. “Look, there’s something moving up ahead.”

“Max, darling,” Lucas murmured to her. “You’re doing tactical hand signs again.”

“Huh?” Max looked over at her left fist, which she’d balled up and held aloft in the standard signal for  _ halt. _ “Oh, whoops. I mean… hey, gang, I think I see something up there!” She pointed, and sure enough there was movement at the far end of the hallway.

“More evil Russians, probably,” Dustin said. “Nowhere to hide in this hallway. What do we do?”

“Charge?” Max suggested.

“Charge,” Will agreed, to a general murmur of approval from the group.

“Wait--” Mike started to say, but the group was already in motion, a clamor of battle cries ringing out as they hurtled towards the startled Russains. They overtook them in a wave, quickly swarming them, bringing them to the ground, and incapacitating them.

“Does the violence really have to be our first resort?” Mike asked, walking up to where the others were standing above the inert forms of the Russians. “I kind of feel like we should be exploring other options first.”

“Very Starfleet of you, captain,” Lucas said dryly.

“Yeah, Mike,” Will said. “As admirable as the impulse is, I don’t think it really jibes with the assumptions of this program. Look, let’s test it out.” He turned down the hallway, where another Russian had appeared and let out a cry at the sight of his fallen comrades. “Excuse me, sir,” Will called to him. “We have reason to believe that your activities in this area are unlawful--” He was cut off by a burst of gunfire from the Russian. “Yeah, see?” he said, turning back to Mike. “They’re programmed to be unrelentingly hostile. Also, ow.” The shots thudded against him, turned to harmless but painful electric stings by the holodeck’s safety protocols.

Robin retrieved one of the fallen Russians’ weapons, aiming and letting off a burst of fire that dropped the other Russian, making Mike wince. “This is uncivilized,” he grumbled.

“Once we’re done here, the two of us can lay claim to the holodeck and play through the Khitomer Accords or whatever you think would be more your speed,” El said.

Mike looped an arm around her shoulder. “I know you’re making fun of me, but thank you anyway.”

“Don’t mention it.” El planted a light kiss on his cheek.

“Gross,” Max said in a dry but good-humored tone.

“Okay, bringing the focus back in,” Lucas said. “We should probably forge ahead and figure out exactly what it is the evil Russians are up to down here. Robin, would you mind taking point since you have the projectile weapon?”

“On it, sir,” Robin replied, and they went on their way down the impressively long hallway.

After several more minutes of walking, they saw a light appear at the end of the hallway; approaching cautiously, they saw that the end of the hallway opened up into a large room, two stories high with a walkway running around the edges for the upper story, the walls lined with chrome-plated devices that beeped and blinked as they carried on their unknown functions.

“Holy shit,” Dustin breathed.

“Wow,” Will said. “They really built an entire secret base down here? In the middle of a civilian population center? How the hell did they manage to do that with nobody noticing?”

“Evil Russian trade secret, no doubt,” Max said.

“There,” El said, pointing. “That room looks important.”

They followed the gesture to a door on the second story. Blinding blue light was pouring through its window, which did seem to indicate that it was somewhat important. “Okay, that’s clearly where we need to get to,” Dustin said. “Question is, how are we going to get there?”

“I thought everybody decided they were on board with just bludgeoning their way through the evil Russians,” Mike said.

Will shot him a look. “Only when we outnumber them, Mike. It’s  _ strategic _ violence.”

“Ah, of course,” Mike said, nodding sagely.

“We could try and sneak past,” Steve suggested.

“All  _ eight _ of us?” Robin asked.

“What about ‘get help’?” Dustin asked. Mike, Max, and Will all snorted, while El, Robin, and Steve simply looked bewildered.

Lucas crossed his arms. “No. Uh-uh. We’re  _ not _ doing ‘get help’. It was funny once, but it ran its course.”

“It’s a legitimate tactical approach!” Dustin protested. “Come on, this is perfect for ‘get help’. It’s the ideal ‘get help’ situation.”

“What’s ‘get help’?” El asked.

“Something dumb we came up with in the Academy to pass a training exercise,” Lucas said. He leveled a severe look at Dustin. “I’m  _ not _ doing ‘get help’. You want to do it, you find someone else.”

“Then I volunteer,” Max said, stepping forward. “I’ve always hoped I’d get a chance to prove my ‘get help’ chops.”

“Awesome,” Dustin said with a grin. As the others watched, he stooped slightly, allowing Max to slump dramatically over his shoulders. “All right, everybody ready,” he said. “‘Get help’ is go in three… two… one…”

He stepped out of the hallway and into the room, carrying Max.

“Get help!” he called. “My friend’s hurt! Somebody, please, get help!”

The Russians all paused what they were doing and stared--though whether it was simulated bewilderment or the program genuinely trying to process how to respond wasn’t clear. Either way, before any of them could react, Dustin heaved forward, allowing Max to flip up and over his shoulder, lashing out with her feet to catch the nearest Russian square in the face, then landing in a fighting stance and taking down the next nearest one with a solid knee to the gut.

“Go!” Mike called. The rest of the group sprang into action--Mike, Will, and Lucas with practiced ease, and El, Robin, and Steve more out of startled obedience than anything else. They spread out into the room, mobbing the startled Russians and taking them down hand-to-hand.

“How exactly was this different from just rushing them in the first place?” El asked as she dropped the final one with a beautifully executed neck pinch.

“This way, we took them by surprise,” Dustin said. “It’s tactics, you see. By the way, Max, your ‘get help’ game is strong.”

Max grinned. “I knew I just needed a chance to prove myself.”

With the path clear, they headed for the obviously important door. Sliding it open revealed a control room filled with consoles, and a gigantic window overlooking a much larger room below, the source of the light that they had seen earlier. A massive device sat in the center of that room, spinning as it projected a high-energy beam at the wall. And where the beam struck the wall--

“What the fuck,” Will said flatly.

“So… Dustin,” Mike said, looking askance at him.  _ “Where _ exactly did you get this program from?”

“Uh,” Dustin said, gaping at the site before him. “It’s… from a friend of mine in the science division.”

“And did this friend perchance have access to your research notes?”

“Yeah… yeah, they did.”

A ragged, gaping hole had opened in the wall where it had been struck by the beam, its edges glowing orange. Beyond, they could see a dark and rotted landscape, white particles drifting through the air and black growths crisscrossing the ground.

“I’m so glad we could play through this program so that we could get our minds off of everything that’s been happening lately,” Will deadpanned.

Dustin winced. “Yeah, I… might need to have some words with my friend about that.”

Mike surveyed the room. “We don’t have to go through with this, you know,” he said. “We can just stop the program right here, find something else to do. Will? You okay?”

Will was gazing steadily at the breach. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Yeah, hell with it. Evil Russians and interdimensional monsters. Why the hell not?” He grinned. “I’m game to push ahead. Let’s kick their butts.”

“El? Harrington? Buckley? Dustin?” Mike looked in turn at each member of his crew who had directly encountered the In-Between in some way. 

El shook her head. “I agree with Will,” she said. “Let’s… kick their butts.”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “I mean, it’s just a hologram, right? It’s not like it can hurt us.”

Robin hefted the gun that she was still carrying. “Let’s do this.”

“Hell yeah!” Dustin sat himself down at one of the computers. “Now, I’m thinking that our objective is going to be to shut down this machine so that the portal can close. So if I take a quick look through their system here…”

“This seems too easy,” Lucas said. “Shouldn’t something be trying to stop us?”

A thin, mottled hand appeared through the breach, grasping at its edge.

“I knew I was dating a clever man,” Max said. “Dustin, you might want to work a little faster.”

“Going as fast as I can, Max,” Dustin replied. “Can you slow it down?”

The hand was followed by an arm, then a torso. A large humanoid figure hauled itself through the breach, unfurling its face like a flower to snarl at them. It was a near-perfect replica of the creature they’d encountered in their foray into the actual In-Between.

“Robin?” Max said.

“Yes, sir? I mean--yeah?” Robin said.

“Five rounds rapid.”

“Yes, s--you got it.” Robin leveled her weapon and let of five bursts in quick succession. The creature stumbled back as the rounds hammered into it, letting out a displeased shriek as it regained its footing.

“Oh, great, it’s bulletproof,” Will said. “Of course. Why  _ wouldn’t  _ it be?”

“Is there anything else in this room we can use?” El asked, scanning their surroundings. “If we can rig something to improvise and explosive…”

_ “That’s _ the first place your mind goes?” Mike asked, apparently torn between being impressed and disconcerted.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Steve said. “I think I’ve got it. Robin, don’t shoot the monster thing--shoot the device!”

Robin looked at him. “This another one of your random hunches, dingus?”

“I mean… yeah.”

Robin stared at him for a moment more, then grinned. Shifting her aim, she emptied the remainder of the gun’s magazine into the device in the middle of the room below. The mechanism sparked, and spat out massive electrical arcs in the shape of a giant X, forming a makeshift, rotating barrier between them and the creature.

“That’s convenient,” Max said.

The console Dustin was at chirped urgently. “Aha!” he said. “That’s destabilized the mechanism. All we need to do is surge the power and the whole thing will blow!” He pointed at two consoles positioned directly in front of the window overlooking the chamber below. “Will, Lucas. On my mark, hit those two buttons simultaneously.”

Will and Lucas took up positions at the consoles, poised to go.

“Mark!”

An explosion reverberated through the facility, rattling the ground beneath their feet. The machine blossomed into a ball of flame that filled the chamber below, swallowing the creature up in the blast. On the far side of the conflagration, it was just barely possible to see the breach snap shut as the beam that had been sustaining it sputtered and died.

- - -

Chatter filled the  _ Hawkins _ hallway as the group poured out of the holodeck. Passing crew members glanced at the noise, then did a double-take at the sight of their senior staff dressed up in extremely anachronistic and faintly ridiculous clothing.

“Whoo!” Dustin cheered. “What a rush!”

“Yeah,” Will agreed with a huge smile. “That was honestly kind of cathartic.”

Max and Lucas had already set off together down the hallway, as had Steve and Robin. Looking down in the other direction, Mike saw El standing aside, her back to the group, seemingly distracted. “Hey,” he said, coming up behind her.

“Hey yourself,” she said, giving him a faint smile over her shoulder.

He slipped his arms around her from behind, and she leaned into him, making a contented noise. “Something on your mind?” he asked.

“Oh… no,” she said. “Well… yes. I don’t know. It’s silly.”

“I don’t mind you being silly.”

She let out a breath of laughter. “It’s… hard to really explain. It’s sort of like… an instinct? Or a premonition?” She sighed. “However you want to put it. I’m just suddenly overcome with the feeling that I should be enjoying this peace while I can.”

“Honestly, that’s good advice, premonition or no,” Mike said.

“I suppose so.” El leaned her head back, nuzzling it against his chest. “Well, in the spirit of enjoying ourselves while we can, then… you want to get out of here?”

Mike grinned. “Yeah, okay.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be honest, this week's chapter was a gap in my outline prior to beginning the finale arc, and I wasn't entirely sure what I was going to do to fill it. And then... this happened.


	23. Worm

It was easy, when one usually only saw full-size starships on viewscreens, to underestimate just how  _ big _ they were.

The walls around the airlock were transparent, giving Dillon a close-up and personal view of the  _ Hawkins’ _ bulk, like the massive form of a leviathan towering above them. The more cynical part of their brain couldn’t help but think that it was just another instance of Starfleet being overly impressed with itself, but the effect was undeniable, the sheer  _ awe _ it inspired speaking to the more romantic notions in the sentient heart that were at the core of Starfleet’s mission statement.

It certainly seemed to be having an effect on Dillon’s fellow ensigns, if the barely restrained giddy giggles were any indication. There were two of them--one human, one Andorian, both women. The human had a shamelessly excited grin plastered across her face, and the Andorian’s antennae were quivering with anticipation. The surge of elation had swept them both away to the point that they’d stopped their attempts to make small talk, for which Dillon was grateful.

There was a loud hiss, announcing that the airlock had engaged, and the door slid open, revealing a dark-skinned man in a red command uniform. “So this is our new crop of ensigns, eh?” he said, running his gaze over them--critical, but not unkindly so. “I’m Commander Lucas Sinclair, first officer on the  _ Hawkins.” _

“Sir,” Dillon said, inclining their head slightly. 

Lucas’s gaze lingered on them for a moment, no doubt taking stock of their composure in comparison to their two peers. “I’ll be seeing you off to your assignments on board the  _ Hawkins,” _ he said. “If you’ll all follow me…”

The trio followed him up the gangplank, and in short order they were walking through the  _ Hawkins’ _ interior hallways, oddly small compared to how massive the ship appeared from the outside--though Dillon supposed that there were a lot of hallways to fit into even a ship as large as the  _ Hawkins. _ Dillon’s two companions were handed off to their assignments, the human to the science division and the Andorian to engineering, leaving only Dillon to trail on behind Lucas.

“And as for you… let’s see…” He consulted a data pad. “Ah, you’re being assigned to operations. Directly under the command of Lieutenant Hopper, I see. She’s a good officer, though I’ll warn you now, she has very high standards for the quality of her work.”

“That suits me,” Dillon replied. “I do too.”

“Then I suppose you’ll get along. Oh, speak of the devil.” Lucas lifted a hand in greeting to somebody walking down the hall towards them, a shorter woman in a yellow operations uniform, brown hair cut to shoulder length and pulled back in a simple, utilitarian hairstyle. “Lieutenant Hopper, I’ve got your new ensign here.”

El’s eyes met Dillon’s, and they were momentarily taken aback in spite of themself. Her gaze was clear and piercing, and they found themselves gripped by the notion that she could see past their face and into their mind, know everything that they were thinking.

They shook themselves mentally to dispel the feeling.

“A pleasure,” El said, even and curt. “I hope we work well together, Ensign…?”

“Dillon,” Dillon replied. “I hope we work well together too, Lieutenant.”

El nodded, and though Dillon kept their face carefully neutral as she walked away, internally they couldn’t help smiling to themself.

Contact with the target had been established.

- - -

An image of Lieutenant El Hopper was displayed on the briefing screen, illuminating the otherwise dimly lit room. “This is your target,” Brenner said, gazing at it. “She’s displayed a number of rather remarkable abilities, not to mention strength of character in the face of considerable adversity. It’s my opinion that she would make an invaluable asset.”

“You want me to approach her?” Dillon asked.

“Not directly. Not at first. When I made contact with her some time ago, she proved fairly resistant to the idea of joining us. I believe that her personal connections to the crew of the  _ Hawkins _ are holding her back.” Brenner clicked the device he was holding, and two more images appeared on the display--a dark-haired human man, and a red-haired human woman. “These are the two connections that are likely to prove the most critical. The redhead is Commander Mayfield--we’ve observed Hopper in her company on a number of occasions, and we believe that she is her closest friend on board the  _ Hawkins. _ As for the other--Captain Wheeler--the fraternization paperwork they recently filed would indicate that Hopper is engaged in a romantic relationship with him.”

“Hm,” Dillon commented, lifting their eyebrows slightly.

“Indeed.” Brenner crossed his arms. “Wheeler was directly involved with Te’ra’s failed extraction from the  _ Hawkins _ following her assassination mission. He’s aware of our existence, so you’ll need to tread carefully around him. Mayfield should be somewhat less complicated in that regard. However…” He lifted a hand without uncrossing his arms and clicked the device again. “There’s something else you should be aware of.” Another image had appeared on the display, this one of an older Tellarite with close-cropped graying hair.

“Is that another of her personal connections?” Dillon asked.

“No,” Brenner said. “At least, not beyond the level of colleague. No, the reason I’m including Sammet Ouvens in this briefing is because he’s the single biggest opsec risk to your mission. He’s a Section 31 defector, and he knows our playbook backwards and forwards. You won’t be able to avoid him entirely, because he runs the ship’s sickbay, but you are to keep contact with him to a minimum, and stay low-profile on this mission. Understood?”

Dillon nodded. “I won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t.” Brenner smiled, thin and cold.

- - -

As any good operative would, Dillon spent some time observing their target prior to making a move. From what they were able to observe of Mike and El--which was quite a bit, given that the two weren’t particularly subtle--they concluded that attacking the couple’s personal relationship directly would be fruitless. They seemed to have developed a degree of trust and comfort between themselves that would require blunt, overt meddling to disrupt, which carried an unacceptable risk of exposure. Ditto for El’s relationship with Max, which seemed strong and intimate, if (at least as far as Dillon could tell) entirely platonic. It seemed odd to them that El could form such powerful emotional bonds with people she’d known for less than a year, but then, Section 31 didn’t exactly encourage an understanding of camaraderie amongst its ranks.

No, if this was going to work, Dillon was going to have to target the more precarious and vulnerable side of El’s relationships--the professional side.

Fortunately, on that front, they’d managed to install themself as a personal aide of sorts to El, operating as a go-between and gofer when she was too busy with her duties to handle mundane tasks herself, which was often. Accordingly, it wasn’t very long before Dillon was presented with their first chance for active interference.

It was a simple thing: a message from Mike requesting a report that came down the pipe while the two of them were working on an unusually thorny debugging of one of the  _ Hawkins’ _ subsystems. Dillon smiled slightly as they saw it come through the pipeline. In its original form, though the request communicated some amount of priority, it was perfectly polite, even somewhat  _ affectionate, _ they noted with a trace of amusement. But messages could so easily change in the mouth of the messenger.

“Lieutenant,” they said aloud, tone all business. “The captain wants you to deliver a report on--”

“I’ll get to it when I have a minute,” El replied, cutting them off. Her attention was still fixed on the terminal in front of her.

Dillon hid their amusement. They couldn’t have gotten a better reaction out of her if they’d asked for it. “The request seems to be somewhat urgent, sir,” they pressed on. “I think the captain would prefer it if you prioritized--”

“I prioritize my tasks according to my own judgement,” El said, not looking up from her screen. “Right now, this is the most critical task we can be working on. Like I said, I’ll get to it.”

Dillon dropped their gaze, playing up an edge of anxiety as appropriate for a junior officer speaking to their superior. “With respect, sir,” they said. “I don’t entirely feel comfortable contradicting the captain’s orders on this matter.”

El’s gaze finally broke away from the terminal as she drew in a deep breath and blew it back out, releasing what Dillon noted was a significant frission of tension from her body. “Tell Mike,” she said in a carefully patient tone, “that  _ I _ say I will give the task the appropriate amount of priority, and that if he has a problem with that he can come to me directly about it. There’s no need for you to get caught up in it.”

“Thank you, sir,” Dillon replied, laying the gratitude in their voice on a bit thick. Turning back to their own terminal, they composed a reply to Mike’s request.

_ Lieutenant Hopper is currently engaged in more critical tasks, and says that she will deliver the requested report when it is possible. _

It was perfunctory, curt, and all around perfect for Dillon’s purposes.

And they had to suppress a shiver of satisfaction a few minutes later, when Mike’s acknowledgement of the reply came through, equally curt.

- - -

El’s relationship with Max proved more difficult to approach--although Max outranked El, their departments were separate enough that they didn’t often have to coordinate. At last, after a few days dedicated to picking away at the lines of communication between El and Mike, Dillon decided that they would have to make a calculated gamble and force a situation between El and Max--subtly, of course.

They had noticed, in their time working with El, that there were a handful of security protocols that were not being followed in the operations division. Granted, this was because they were a pain in the ass and largely unnecessary, and it wasn’t uncommon for even officers as conscientious as El to ignore them, but it was technically in breach of regulations, and the fact that they were security protocols made them Max’s responsibility to enforce.

So it was that one anonymously-submitted official complaint brought Max down to where El and Dillon were working. “Oh, hello,” El said as she walked in. “What brings you down to us?”

Max’s mouth was set in a tense line that made it very clear what she thought of the duties she was required to discharge here. “I’m, uh, actually down here to audit you.”

“What?” El’s gaze flickered over to Dillon, who kept their expression innocently bewildered, then back to Max. “What’s going on, Max?”

“We got a complaint about some protocols that weren’t being followed,” Max sighed. “Regulation requires that I go over them with you, as well as doing a general audit of your processes, to make sure that there aren’t issues in other areas as well.” She handed a datapad over to El.

El’s expression turned thunderous as she went over its contents--she’d been in a bad mood to begin with, which Dillon gathered had something to do with a tense conversation she’d had with Mike the previous night. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said, lowering it and looking back up at Max.

“I’m not particularly happy about it, either.” Max shrugged. “But nonetheless--”

“‘But’ nothing,” El snapped. “Those protocols are useless. This isn’t accomplishing anything except holding us up from more important work.”

“I don’t disagree,” Max replied with patience that was growing visibly more exaggerated and deliberate. “Protocol is protocol, however, and I’ve got a job to do here. So let’s just go ahead and get this over with, if you don’t mind.”

El looked like she was considering replying that, in fact, she minded quite a bit, but to Dillon’s slight disappointment she decided against it. Instead, she waved Max on with a scowl, and the two went to begin the long, tedious process of auditing.

- - -

Had they been more philosophically inclined, Dillon would’ve drawn a few conclusions from how effective bureaucracy was at acting as sand in the gears of otherwise functional personal relationships.

The audit of the operations division dragged on for two days, both El and Max becoming more tense and irritated with each passing hour, with barely any innocuous nudging required from Dillon. When Max ended the whole affair by handing El a list of “suggested improvements” for the way she ran things, El’s expression was enough to give even a seasoned operative like Dillon pause.

Better yet, news of the audit made its way up the chain to Mike, exponentially increasing the tension that already existed there. El’s composure began to crack, and she began showing up to her shift with increasingly evident frustration and irritation. Dillon was sure to ask just enough concerned questions to keep her from getting her mind off it with her work, without being too overtly nosy about it.

All told, the mission was firing on all cylinders, and Dillon was generally in a good mood as they went about the duties that were a necessary part of their cover on board the  _ Hawkins. _ The one sour note was a brief incident in which they unexpectedly ran into Doctor Ouvens coming down the hallway, and he caught their gaze and gave them a nod in greeting. They’d been able to hold their composure long enough to return the nod, but had had to duck into a side hallway once he was out of sight and give themselves time for their heart rate to return to normal.

This had all been going on for just under a week when El stormed in at the beginning of her shift one morning, setting a stack of datapads down with enough force that Dillon looked up at her, startled. “Is everything all right?” they asked, knowing full well that it wasn’t.

“Yes,” El snapped. Dillon simply nodded and returned their attention to their work, but a moment later El said, “No.” When Dillon looked back at her, she was resting her face wearily in the palm of her hand.

“Brass giving you trouble again?” Dillon asked.

“I  _ am _ the brass,” El replied. “Or at least, I’m  _ supposed _ to be. You wouldn’t  _ know _ that I’m a member of the senior staff, with the way that the others have apparently decided that they’re okay with picking apart everything I do… might as well demote me to ensign and be done with it. No offense.”

“None taken,” Dillon said.

“I just don’t understand,” El continued with a deep sigh. “Everything was going so  _ well. _ The  _ Hawkins _ felt like the perfect fit for me, like it was my home, even. But now…” She shook her head. “I don’t understand how it all went to hell so fast. I’ve caught myself wondering what I’m even doing here, anymore.”

A light thrill ran through Dillon at that. It was the most obvious opening they could’ve asked for. “That’s a worthy question,” they said carefully. “After all, if they don’t appreciate your talents here, then it makes sense for you to go someplace where they do.”

“Yeah?” El let out a dry laugh and looked over at Dillon. “I don’t suppose you have any suggestions on that score?”

Dillon hesitated. They hadn’t expected this opportunity to be dropped in their lap so neatly. Could they afford to take it? Could they afford  _ not _ to? “Well,” they began slowly. “I  _ do _ have a… prior association with an organization that’s always interested in recruiting new talent. Provided that talent is capable, which you most certainly are, of course.”

“Well, there’s one person who believes in me around here, at any rate.” El grinned. “What’s this organization? What sort of work do they do?”

Dillon thought furiously about how to answer that, but as they did, the grin slowly dropped off of El’s face. 

“Are you talking about who I think you’re talking about?” she asked softly, taking a step towards them.

Dillon said nothing.

“Hey, it’s okay.” El gave a furtive glance at the door. “We can talk here. I’m interested in hearing you out.” She looked back at Dillon, meeting their eyes--

\--a clear, piercing gaze that could see past their face and into their mind--

Dillon backed up a step, alarm bells suddenly sounding in their head. “This isn’t right,” they said. “It can’t be  _ this _ easy. He said that you resisted when he approached you.” They lowered their head slightly, meeting El’s gaze head-on. “What’s your game?”

El blinked in surprise, and then, slowly, a rueful smile spread across her face. “Damn,” she said. “Did I overplay my hand? Well, I suppose that means the game’s up, then. Athaclena, if you please?”

_ “Sure thing!”  _ said a cheerful electronic voice. Dillon was already lunging for something to use as a makeshift weapon when their body was hit by some sort of energy field, and they blacked out.

- - -

Consciousness returned slowly, details filtering in, disconnected. They were flat on their back, lying on some sort of surface. Restraints circled their wrists, ankles, chest, and waist. There were voices nearby, talking, murmuring really--too quietly to make out. Dillon cracked their eyes open just enough to take in their surroundings. They appeared to be in the  _ Hawkins _ sickbay, strapped down to a surgical table.

Needless to say, it was a disconcerting way to wake up.

“Ah, I see you stirring,” said one of the voices, slightly jovial in a way that was at odds with the current situation. “No pretending to still be asleep. Nice try, though.” There was the sound of movement, and Doctor Ouvens crossed into Dillon’s field of view, with Mike and Max trailing slightly behind him.

“I apologize for the setup here,” Mike said. “I know that the connotations are probably… a bit unpleasant. But we don’t have many other options for personal restraint systems on the  _ Hawkins, _ so we had to go with what we had.”

Damn. Dillon rested their head back, clenching their jaw, reaching out intangibly in the way they’d been trained--

“If you’re trying to use your suicide implant,” Ouvens said, “I’m afraid I deactivated it while you were sleeping. We learned that lesson with the last Section 31 agent we got our hands on.”

Well, so much for that. “You set up a trap for me,” Dillon said, opening their eyes and looking back up at Ouvens, Mike, and Max. “I didn’t just accidentally give myself away to Lieutenant Hopper--that was premeditated, you had time to prepare. What gave me away?”

“Oh, don’t beat yourself up,” Max said with a saucy grin. “It wasn’t your fault; your act was nearly perfect. But we’ve been keeping an eye out for infiltrators for a long time now, with the benefit of Doctor Ouvens’ experience in the matter. We made you before you even set foot on the ship.”

“Which is to say, the entire time I thought I was playing you, you were playing me.” Dillon couldn’t help but smile at the irony in spite of themselves. “You told them about us,” they added, looking at Mike.

“My senior staff, yes,” Mike said. “Did you think that I wouldn’t? That I wouldn’t trust them?”

“You say that like you didn’t try to hide it from us at first,” Max said, elbowing him.

Mike gave her an annoyed glance. “The point is,” he said. “I  _ did _ choose to trust my crew--my friends--in the end. You Section 31 types seem to underestimate the power of that. Your whole plan here was based on underestimating it.”

“If you don’t mind,” Dillon said, affecting disinterest, “can we skip the moral lecture and go straight to the part where you interrogate me?” Internally, they steeled themself. This was about the worst situation they could’ve expected to find themself in as an operative… but they’d been prepared for this, too.

Mike gave them a long, silent look before closing his eyes and sighing. “This is exactly what I’m trying to tell you,” he said. “We do things differently around here.” He looked at Ouvens and nodded. “Your patient, doctor.” 

He turned to go, followed by Max. Dillon heard the door to sickbay buzz as they exited. “Interrogation, huh?” Ouvens said, as conversationally as if he were discussing the weather. He turned and leaned back, perching in a not-quite-sitting position on the edge of Dillon’s bed. “I used to be really good at that back in the day, you know? A real virtuoso. See, all these techniques that target the body? Crass, ineffective. You  _ really _ want to break somebody? You have to go for the  _ mind.” _

There was a long, ugly silence, and Dillon couldn’t keep from swallowing as a pit of fear formed in their stomach.

“But,” Ouvens said at last, “the whole reason I left is because I don’t want to be that person anymore. And the captain wouldn’t stand for it, anyway. None of them would. They’re good people. Good enough to make you want to be good too.” He got up, went to retrieve a stool, and pulled it up so that he could sit down next to Dillon’s head. “So. Why don’t we just… talk, you and I. Why don’t we start with what exactly it is that Brenner’s got his hands on, here? I know he hasn’t told you, because you’re not nearly frightened enough.”

- - -

Heads turned as Doctor Ouvens walked through the ready room’s doors. The  _ Hawkins  _ senior staff was assembled, though not in their usual arrangement; they’d shuffled seats such that El had Lucas’s usual right-hand spot next to Mike, putting Max on his other side. Nobody commented on the rearrangement, or the fact that the three were sitting perhaps a bit closer to each other than was normal for a briefing, or the fact that Mike’s hand was laid atop of El’s on top of the table. Charade or no, the last couple of weeks had been difficult.

“That was fast,” Mike commented as Ouvens took up his usual unofficial position at the far wall.

“What can I say?” Ouvens shrugged. “Turns out saying, hey, your boss is hellbent on letting an extradimensional horror loose on an unsuspecting galaxy, is a surprisingly effective persuasive tactic. They were very forthcoming once they’d seen my point.”

“And?” Lucas asked.

Ouvens clapped his hand together and rubbed them briskly. “Well, the unfortunate bit is that Section 31 is very stingy with doling out information to its operatives for this exact reason. The fortunate bit is that Dillon  _ did _ happen to have a piece of information that’s potentially useful to us. Specifically, Sector 9, sixth planet of the Altair system.”

“A planet?” Mike’s eyebrows raised slightly. “Do we know what’s on the planet?”

“Something,” Ouvens said. “Something Brenner’s very keenly interested in. Dillon seemed to think it was a pet project of his.”

“Another dimensional breach?” Dustin asked.

“Maybe,” Ouvens said. “Something that has a good chance of leading us to him, at any rate.”

“So what about Dillon?” Max asked. “What do we do with them?”

“I’ve had Lucas quietly get in touch with some people he knows in Starfleet Intelligence,” Mike said.

“They’ve agreed that they’re willing to take them,” Lucas added. “Eager, even. And from what Doctor Ouvens is saying, Dillon might even prove cooperative. Another front in our secret war with Section 31.”

“As for our lead on Altair VI,” Ouvens said. “With your permission, captain… I’d like to nominate myself as the most qualified candidate to follow up on that.”

“Of course.”

“I’m going too,” El said.

“El--” Mike began.

“Mike,” El said.

A significant look passed between the two of them. “Okay,” Mike said at last. “Okay. El and Doctor Ouvens.”

“What about me?” Dustin said. “If there’s a chance we might be investigating a breach…”

“Bad idea,” Ouvens said mildly. “It’s going to be hard enough coming up with a cover story for two officers leaving the ship at the same time.  _ Three  _ is pushing it way too far.”

“Agreed,” Mike said. “Besides, I think I can get you backup from another quarter.”

Everybody in the room turned to look at him.

“There’s… somebody else I’ve been keeping in the dark about this Section 31 business,” Mike continued, a rueful smile playing across his face. “Somebody who, as it happens, is  _ very _ good at digging up information.”

- - -

Jonathan returned to the hotel room to find Nancy poring over the room’s terminal. “Wow, still reading, huh?” he said. “Mike’s letter must be pretty fascinating if you’re this enraptured.”

She didn’t respond.

“Nance?”

“This doesn’t make any sense,” she said, not looking up.

“What doesn’t?”

“This letter! I mean, it seems like a perfectly normal letter, nothing that would jump out to a random stranger, but… these references he’s making, Jon, none of this stuff actually  _ happened. _ It’s practically gibberish!”

“What?” Jonathan frowned. “Why would Mike send you a letter with a bunch of made-up stuff in it?”

Nancy leaned in even closer towards the terminal’s screen, eyes flicking back and forth as she went over the letter line by line, silently mouthing words as she read. “Oh, fuck,” she finally breathed, leaning back in her seat. “Fuck me, this is a  _ code.” _

“Code--?!”

Nancy finally looked up, meeting Jonathan’s gaze with a glint in her eyes. “How quickly can we get to Altair VI?” she asked.

“What?”

“Look, Jonathan.” She gestured emphatically at the terminal. “Ten years in Starfleet, Mike has never  _ once _ asked me for help, not even when he should’ve. Now, suddenly, he not only asks, but he goes to the trouble of asking in  _ code, _ disguising it as a regular letter? He’s in something, really deep. He needs me.”

Jonathan nodded, slowly first, then more firmly. “I’ll check the schedule,” he said. “We should be able to catch a flight tonight.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As the man said, we're in the endgame now. This is the prologue to the finale arc, with three chapters to go. Hard to believe I've actually made it this far, but here we are!


	24. Sting

The comm crackled with the space traffic controller’s voice.  _ “Incoming shuttle, please identify.” _

Ouvens leaned forward to reply, a gesture that was not strictly necessary. “This is the civilian shuttle  _ Avonlea, _ seeking permission to land.”

_ “Copy,  _ Avonlea. _ Please establish a holding pattern until you are given clearance.” _

Ouvens glanced over at his compatriot, who was currently engaged in piloting the shuttle. “They say--”

“Yes, I  _ heard.” _ El made a few impatient swipes at the shuttle’s control console. For obvious reasons, they weren’t flying one of the  _ Hawkins’ _ shuttles. They’d taken one to a Federation starbase under the pretense of attending a conference there, and then obtained a civilian shuttle for the journey to Altair VI--arrangements that Ouvens had taken care of, through whatever mysterious channels he had access to. “Holding pattern established.”

“Good,” said Ouvens, with a slight groan as he settled back in his seat. “Good, good. Everything’s going swimmingly so far.” El gave him a disbelieving glance, and he flicked a glance at her in return. “Something on your mind, Lieutenant?”

“Where do you want me to start?” El asked. “The part where we’re hunting a clandestine black ops organization that’s apparently decided that they want to recruit me, or the part where we’ve effectively abandoned our posts on a mission that’s decidedly  _ not _ sanctioned by Starfleet?”

“Mike said it was okay, right?” Ouvens replied with an insolent grin. “Besides, if things do go pear-shaped, I’m sure your father could--”

“I’ve gotten through five years of my Starfleet career without abusing my father’s position,” El snapped. “I do  _ not _ intend to start now.”

“Right,” Ouvens said. “Sorry.” His gaze lingered on her face for a few moments. “Look, Hopper… I don’t mean to be flippant. I understand this is a hard situation for you; not just the mission, but being stuck on it with somebody you don’t trust--”

“It’s not that I don’t--”

He held up a hand. “No, Hopper, you don’t trust me, and that’s  _ good. _ It’s good sense. I wouldn’t trust me either, if I were in your position.” He smiled again, rueful this time. “Honestly, I wish that you’d rub off on the captain a bit. That boy trusts far too easily, and it worries me.”

El’s lips tightened slightly at the mention of Mike. “He believes in the goodness of people.”

“He does.” Ouvens nodded. “It’s an admirable trait. Just… also dangerous, sometimes.”

“I suppose.” El sighed. “I understand, you know. Now.”

“Understand what?”

“That incident with the Romulans. Why you suggested that I probe our prisoner’s mind. I mean, I still don’t  _ like _ it--it offends me on every conceivable moral level, in fact--but I was just so hurt and bewildered that a Starfleet doctor would even  _ think _ of suggesting such a thing and… well, knowing who you are, having some idea where you come from and what you’ve been through… it makes a certain amount of sense.”

“I see.” Ouvens sagged slightly, suddenly looking older and more tired than El had ever seen him before. “Universe seems less harsh when it makes sense, right? Even if it’s cold sense.”

El nodded. “Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

The comm crackled again.  _ “Shuttle  _ Avonlea, _ you are cleared for landing on the surface. Please follow the indicated flight path.” _

Ouvens straightened up, suddenly animated again. “Copy that, control.” He looked over at El. “Lieutenant, if you would do the honors?”

Smiling a bit in spite of herself, El nudged the shuttle onto its landing trajectory.

- - -

The scene was so iconic as to be a stereotype. El and Ouvens, each carrying a small bag of possessions, found themselves in a seedy dive bar in one of the rougher parts of the city surrounding the spaceport. It was dimly lit by partially-functional overhead lights (El wondered if the effect was being deliberately cultivated), and the tables set up haphazardly around the open floorspace were host to a variety of sinister-looking types, who were all examining the new arrivals with varying degrees of interest. El ignored them, following Ouvens’ lead as he made his way around the tables and chairs to the main bar.

“Excuse me,” Ouvens said cheerfully as they approached. “We’ve got a room reserved upstairs?” The bartender, a surly-looking Nausicaan of indeterminate gender, tossed him a key and gave a jerk of the head in the direction of a staircase in the corner. “Thank you kindly,” Ouvens replied, tossing off a casual two-fingered salute.

“So is the overbearing friendliness just an act to get people to let their guard down?” El asked as they ascended the indicated staircase.

Ouvens scoffed. “Is  _ your _ personality an act just because it happens to be well-suited to your profession?”

“Fair enough, I suppose.”

The stairs led them to a landing, and El again followed Ouvens as he moved with purpose to one of the doors and unlocked it with the key. “Oh dear,” he said as he stepped into the room. “It would seem that there’s been some sort of mix-up with the booking.”

Nancy and Jonathan stared back at him in mild surprise, both perched on the room’s bed. “It would seem so,” Nancy agreed. “I’m impressed that you were able to arrange this.”

“If there’s anybody on the  _ Hawkins _ who could pull it off, it’s Doctor Ouvens,” El said.

Ouvens raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think that was supposed to be a compliment, but I’ll take it anyway.”

Nancy gave a tentative half-smile, as though she weren’t sure whether she was supposed to find the exchange amusing or not. “It’s nice to see you again, El.”

“You too,” El agreed, smiling. “And you, Jonathan. I only wish the circumstances were better.”

“Agreed,” sighed Nancy. “Speaking of which… is that our cue to get down to business here, or do you two need to settle in first?”

Ouvens unceremoniously dropped his bag on the floor. “Consider me settled in,” he said. “Now, did you have any questions about the situation before we start?”

“The contents of the message you sent us were pretty straightforward, even if the implications were… significant.” Nancy grimaced and pressed on. “We’ve been here for a little under a day waiting for you, so we went ahead and used the time to do a little preliminary digging. I think I’ve got a candidate for the first place we investigate.”

El blinked. “Just like that?”

“Just like that,” Nancy affirmed. “I mean, this Section 31, they’re used to everybody around them being completely blind to their existence, right? I figured, you work like that long enough, you’re bound to get a little bit sloppy with the details… and it seems I was right, at least if I have what I think I have.”

“Well, let’s see what you have, then,” Ouvens said.

Nancy nodded and produced a datapad from a bag that was sitting next to her on the bed. “Have a look,” she said, handing it off to Ouvens. “It’s an astronautics research firm, located not too far from here. The details are all there, but basically, it’s been receiving resources from a variety of different sources, all discreet, none giving you anything when you try to actually look them up.”

“Certainly sounds like a Section 31 shell game,” Ouvens said thoughtfully. “Astronautics, huh…? Well, we’re going to want to see if we can get blueprints for the building before we--”

“I already got them,” Jonathan cut in. “They’re available from the public archives.”

Ouvens looked up at him, vaguely startled. “They… if it’s them, they’ll almost certainly have that flagged to notify them when somebody accesses it.”

“Yeah, obviously,” Jonathan said. “Which is why I downloaded the schematics for every building in that section of the city simultaneously. It’ll look like I was just an architecture enthusiast.”

“Even so, if they decide to investigate and trace you--”

“Which is why I used a public access terminal to do it.”

“They’ll have a look at the security footage--”

“Which is why I was dressed in concealing clothing from the moment I left this place to the moment I returned.”

Ouvens gazed at him for a few moments, slightly stunned, before breaking out into a peal of laughter. “Okay, I can’t find fault with that,” he said. “Good work, kid. I can see why Mike decided to tap the pair of you for this.”

The mention of Mike’s name drew a slight sigh from El. Unfortunately, Ouvens heard it and glanced sidelong at her. “Missing your captain, are you?” he asked with just the barest edge of teasing in his voice. El just glared at him in response. 

Unfortunately, again, when El turned back to Nancy, she was staring at her with a quizzical expression.

“Oh. Um.” El’s face reddened slightly. This was  _ not _ something she wanted to dwell on at the moment. “Mike and I are… kind of… um.”

Nancy nodded slowly, a small smile playing over her lips. “I’m glad the two of you figured that out.”

“Not you too,” El groaned.

- - -

The receptionist looked up as they approached. “Can I help you with something?”

“Oh, I certainly hope so,” Nancy said, flashing a brilliant smile. “Nancy Holland, Federation News Service. I’m here for an interview with Director Galh…?”

Frowning, the receptionist looked down to consult his terminal. “I’m sorry, Director Galh doesn’t have any interviews scheduled…” He trailed to a halt, a bewildered expression on his face. 

Watching the scene on a terminal of her own, El bit her lip nervously. This was one of the iffiest parts of the whole operation, the one that had given her the most pause while they were planning. Ouvens was confident in his hacking skills, and having seen him in action El had to admit that it was warranted. They couldn’t hack into the memories of the people they were dealing with, however, and if one of them decided that something was off…

“Are you sure?” Nancy’s air of innocent confusion was so pitch-perfect that El would’ve believed her in a heartbeat if she’d been in the receptionist’s place. “I called in and scheduled it last week, I spoke to… um… shoot, what was their name…?

“No, no, it… appears to be here,” the receptionist said. And it was--the forged calendar entry for the appointment was perfect down to the falsified timestamp, an attention to detail that Ouvens had warned them their adversaries would share. “I-I’m sorry, there seems to have been some sort of oversight on our end. Could I see your credentials, and then we can get this sorted out…?”

Nancy gave him another winning smile and handed over her FNS identification card--which was perfectly genuine, apart from the minor tweak of changing her last name from Wheeler, which would almost certainly have set off alarms with Section 31.

“Can’t say this makes a good impression off the bat,” Ouvens said. “What kind of an organization are you all running here?” He’d shed his usual genial air and adopted a gruff, cranky persona that was so completely at odds with what El was used to that it would’ve made her laugh in a less serious situation.

“C’mon, Uncle Jan,” Jonathan said, glancing over at Ouvens. “Cut them a little slack.”

“Hmph.”

“...yes, sir, they’re right here in front of me,” the receptionist was saying, talking into a comm. “Yes, the appointment’s in the calendar… yes, I’ve run her credentials, they’re legitimate. Yes. Yes sir.” He hung up the comm and waved the trio in. “Apologies for the misunderstanding. If you could come this way, the director will be with you as soon as possible…”

They passed through a door behind the reception desk, and El switched her view to another of the facility’s security cameras to follow them. Sending Ouvens as part of the infiltration team had been a calculated risk, the possibility of his being recognized being counterbalanced by the fact that he had far and away the most experience in these matters. With the amount of attention she’d been getting from Section 31, El would have posed an even greater risk, which was why she’d remained behind with a backdoor link into the facility’s computer systems, keeping an eye on the others as they proceeded and providing what technical support she could from a distance.

And in the worst case scenario, she’d be their first and only source of backup.

The receptionist escorted Nancy, Jonathan, and Ouvens to what appeared to be a small waiting area, indicating for them to sit in the seats lining the walls. “The director will be with you shortly,” he said, before turning to return to his post at the front desk.

“Ugh,” Ouvens grunted loudly, before he could depart. “That  _ gagh _ isn’t settling well. Where’s your bathroom at?”

Maintaining an unflappability that El couldn’t help but be mildly impressed at, the receptionist pointed at another door. “Through there, down the hall, on the left. Let us know if you, ah, require any assistance.”

Springing up from his seat, Ouvens awkwardly waddled out the door.

El switched her terminal to a split view, allowing her to follow Ouvens’ progress while still keeping an eye on Nancy and Jonathan in the waiting room. She watched the doctor as he continued his frantic waddle down the hallway, disappearing into a doorway on the left, then sprang into action. They’d agreed that it was too risky for any of the infiltrators to carry communication devices in with them, so Ouvens would wait a predetermined amount of time before proceeding with the next step in the plan. She had ninety seconds to make the necessary adjustments to the facility’s systems.

Ouvens reappeared from the bathroom ninety seconds later, waddle and grumpy persona completely gone. He spared a brief glance up directly at the camera and tipped a saucy salute to El, making her roll her eyes. The live feed from the camera was now only coming to her terminal through the backdoor link; anybody accessing the security footage through more legitimate means would only see a subtly looped clip of the empty hallway. She’d have to adjust as Ouvens passed out of and into the range of various cameras as he moved, but now that she had the basic structure in place, that would be easy enough.

A door opening in the waiting area drew El’s attention as Ouvens set off with purpose. 

“My apologies for the wait.” Director Galh was tall and broad-shouldered for an Arbazan, a subtle ridge swooping down the length of his forehead with an elegance that nonetheless made El shiver slightly to look at him. Something about him immediately said  _ danger _ to her. “It would seem that we had some sort of scheduling mix-up.”

“So I’ve been informed. It’s no problem.” If Nancy shared any of El’s misgivings on seeing Galh, she gave no indication, rising smoothly from her seat and brightly offering him her hand, which he shook. “This is my assistant, Jonathan,” Nancy added, and Jonathan gave a small, awkward wave as she indicated him. El wasn’t sure if the shyness was genuine or affected. With a few automatic movements, she activated another footage loop to cover Ouvens’ progress, then followed the group into Galh’s office.

“Well,” Galh said, crossing the room to stand behind his desk. “I take it you’re here to do a story on one of our projects?”

“Oh, no,” Nancy said. “I mean, what you’re doing here is very interesting, certainly, but it’s been well covered by other outlets. No, I actually came here to follow up on some questions regarding your funding.”

Galh went still, and El sucked in a breath. Nancy was acting as a catspaw here, the idea being that if she asked enough awkward questions, she’d hold Galh’s attention on her and away from what Ouvens was up to. The risks were obvious. It was definitely a plan Mike wouldn’t approve of; they’d have to settle for asking his forgiveness when they got back.

If they made it back.

El glanced back over at Ouvens. He’d made it to his destination, a room that had been curiously unlabeled on the facility’s official blueprints, yet clearly contained the infrastructure to make for a decent data hub. The room’s door was obviously locked, but Ouvens was bypassing it with impressive speed; El made a few adjustments to prevent the resulting security alert from going anywhere that anybody would be able to see. Within moments, he was in. Now it was just a matter of how much information he could dig up in whatever time Nancy and Jonathan were able to buy him.

“I am not interested,” Galh was saying, “in having some reporter waltz in out of the blue and start throwing around accusations--”

“Accusations?” Nancy said, sounding appropriately bewildered. “I’m not accusing anybody of anything here. I was just doing some background research on your firm, and ran across a couple of things that seemed a bit out of the ordinary.”

“Frankly, we wouldn’t have followed up on it--the public doesn’t go for technical financial stuff like that,” Jonathan added. “Only Nancy mentioned it to her editor, and she thought it was worth following up on, so… here we are.”

El grinned. That was a nice touch. Even over the camera she could see the calculations running behind Galh’s eyes as he regarded the pair suspiciously. They’d presented him with a situation that he couldn’t afford to ignore, and that he couldn’t easily sweep under the rug. “All right,” he said, lowering himself into his chair. “Let’s talk about these… irregularities, then.”

El looked back over at Ouvens. As they’d suspected, the suspiciously unlabeled room was a data hub, with a large cylindrical computer core standing conspicuously in the middle of the room. The audio pickups on the security cameras weren’t good enough to be sure, but El thought she heard Ouvens muttering to himself about “falling standards” and “kids these days” as he went about the task of dumping the data from the core onto a set of data rods he’d concealed on his person for the purpose.

“...so as you can see, while everything’s above board per se, there’s a lot of missing data that raises some questions,” Nancy was saying.

“I can see how it would,” Gahl replied, leaning forward with his hands folded together in front of his face. “Frankly, though, I don’t entirely see how it’s my concern. We rely on the goodwill of our patrons to keep our projects going here, so you can understand that we’d not be too inclined to put them under a microscope. If you think something is suspect with one of our sources, perhaps you should investigate that source directly?”

Nancy raised an eyebrow. “You’re not worried that someone might accuse you of impropriety?”

“I thought you said you weren’t making accusations here, Miss Holland.”

“Um,” Nancy replied, hesitating for the first time since she’d walked in the building. “I… did say that, yes.”

“We’re not trying to write a hatchet job here, sir,” Jonathan said, jumping in. “But surely you want this investigated, if only to be sure that your name stays clear?”

“What I  _ want,” _ Galh snapped, “is to do my job, which is overseeing the projects we have in development here. If you end up finding anything of substance, come back to me and we can talk. Until then…” He pressed a button on his desk, and the receptionist appeared at the door. “Please see Miss Holland and her aide out of the facility.”

“Um… yes, sir,” the receptionist said. “But where is the third one?”

There was a pregnant pause.

“...the  _ third _ one?” Galh asked, with an edge in his voice.

Shit.

El leaped up from her seat and bolted for the door.

- - -

Startled pedestrians leaped aside as El sprinted the distance between her bolthole and the facility. She had no plan, moving only under the impulse that  _ something _ had to be done. What was her first priority…? It had to be securing Ouvens and the data he’d extracted. That was the whole point of coming here. Then they could find Nancy and Jonathan and get them out of there.

The facility loomed ahead, and El darted along its side down a narrow alleyway, eyes peeled for the side door that she knew was there. It was locked, naturally, but a quick override of its systems fixed that easily enough. It was crude, brutal, and undoubtedly already setting off intruder alarms already, but subtlety was well out the window at this point.

A surprised cry greeted El as she entered, and her hand snapped up, letting off a stun shot from her phaser to drop the security guard before he could react. Almost as an afterthought, she retrieved the weapon from his holster--a civilian model, not even equipped with a kill mode, but plenty suitable for the situation at hand. She tucked it into her belt.

Ouvens. She had to find Ouvens.

She extended her senses. While his presence wasn’t as familiar to her as, say, Mike’s or Max’s would’ve been, it was familiar enough that she managed to lock on to him without much trouble. He was out of the data hub and moving, but not as quickly as the situation warranted. He still didn’t know.

El took off at a jog, banking around corners as she wove her way through the hallways. Within minutes, she’d rounded a corner and come directly face to face with Ouvens.

“Holy--!” He flinched back at her sudden appearance. “Hopper?!”

“We’re in trouble,” she replied without preamble.

There was a faint glint of shock in his eye, but he nodded without wasting time on hesitation. “The others?”

“Captured, I think. I can find them.” She held out the spare weapon she’d taken off the security guard, presenting it butt-first.

“After you, then,” he said as he accepted it.

They took off again, Ouvens trailing behind El as she led the way. In her mind’s eye she could see Nancy and Jonathan; they were moving down a hallway at a march, flanked by indistinct presences that El took to be guards. “They’re on the move,” she said to Ouvens. “They’re being escorted.” He didn’t reply, which was just as well, because they were very nearly on top of their quarry.

There were three guards surrounding Nancy and Jonathan. They reacted as El came into view, phasers beginning to lift into firing position, one of them going for a comm. El raised her own phaser, searching for a shot that didn’t risk hitting the people she was here to rescue--

The whine of a charging weapon came from behind her, and she felt rather than saw the barrel pointed squarely at her back.

“Far enough, Hopper.” Ouvens’ voice was cold and hard. “Drop the weapon, now.”

There was a moment of hesitation as everybody in the hallway processed what was happening.

_ “Drop it,” _ Ouvens repeated, snapping.

El slowly lifted her hands into the air, letting her phaser drop to the ground with a dull clatter.  _ “You,” _ she said, letting the word out in a seething hiss.

“I said you were wise not to trust me,” Ouvens replied mildly.

“Who--?” one of the guards began to ask.

“I came in with them,” Ouvens explained. “But I’m not  _ with _ them, per se. Not that they knew that until just now. No, I’m getting tired of having to put up with their sanctimonious twaddle. Brenner’s got the right idea, I think, and I’m interested in rejoining the winning team.”

The guards all looked at each other uncertainly.

“If you wouldn’t mind bringing me to Director Galh,” Ouvens continued, “I’m sure that he and I could talk--” He didn’t finish the sentence, cutting it off with a shot from his weapon that dropped the guard who had been going for his comm earlier. El dove forward, tucking herself into a roll as she snatched up her dropped weapon, and coming up to a crouching firing position, where she fired in sync with a second shot from Ouvens, dropping the two remaining guards simultaneously.

Nancy and Jonathan stood dumbfounded amidst the inert forms of their erstwhile captors. “What just--?” Nancy began to ask.

El held up a hand to cut her off. “Ask later. Run now.”

And run they did, pelting back through the hallways to the side door El had entered through and out into the alleyway. Nor did they stop there, continuing to run down the streets and weaving around and through crowds, only stopping once they’d burst into the dive bar where they’d been staying and thudded up the stairway to the landing where their room was located.

“Ugh, let myself get out of shape,” Ouvens panted, clutching at his side. “Grab your stuff as fast as you can. We’re not safe until we’ve gotten on the shuttle and jumped to warp.” He let out a long breath as he snatched up the bag with his belongings. “Whew. That could have gone better, but it also could’ve gone far worse. I’ll be honest, I was worried you’d think I’d betrayed you for real, there.”

“If you really meant to defect back to Section 31, you’ve had multiple opportunities to sell us out before now,” El replied, retrieving her own bag. “The fact that you hadn’t done so logically suggested that your apparent betrayal was a ruse.”

Ouvens laughed. “Cold and calculating. There’s hope for you yet, Hopper.”

- - -

Dustin let out a low whistle as data scrolled across the screen in front of him and Will.  _ “Wow, _ guys. This is incredible. You really found the motherlode, here.”

“Well, I’d hope so,” Ouvens replied. “Given the risks that we took to obtain it.”

Mike cleared his throat slightly. “And Nancy and Jonathan…?”

“Are fine,” El said, laying a soft hand on his shoulder. “We dropped them off somewhere they can lay low for a little bit until we’ve gotten the Section 31 situation sorted out.”

Mike nodded, letting out a grateful sigh.

“Don’t think you’re off the hook,” El added. “Nancy said to tell you that when all this is over, you can expect her to bend your ear extensively about letting your big sister help you out once in a while.”

“I  _ did _ let her help me out,” Mike grumbled.

“Yeah, once you were already neck-deep in it.”

Mike snorted, trying to sound annoyed, but he couldn’t keep the smile off of his face, and El nudged him playfully with her elbow.

“Oh. Um.” Dustin reached out with one finger and tapped the screen. “Will, what does that look like to you?”

Will peered at the indicated data. “That… looks like the specs for a shipyard to me.”

Suddenly, everybody’s attention was focused on the screen.

“That’s… what it looks like to me too,” Dustin said, sounding slightly nervous. “Question is, what does Section 31 need with a shipyard?”

“To build a ship, presumably.” Mike leaned forward, resting his weight on the back of Dustin’s chair as he peered over him. “Better question--what does Section 31 need with a  _ ship?” _

“It’s a fair bet the answer’s in here somewhere,” Will said. He flipped rapidly through several screens’ worth of data. “If we can just… ah-ha!” He leaned in triumphantly to read what he’d pulled up. “Yep, this is definitely it… uh-huh… uh-huh… oh. Oh…  _ fuck.” _

“Is that what I think it is?” Dustin asked.

“It is,” confirmed Will.

“And can you translate for the less technically inclined of us?” Mike asked.

Will indicated several spots on the screen in turn. “Heat sinks. Visual cloaking. ECM bafflers. This is stealth tech beyond anything the rest of the Federation has. Possibly even beyond the Romulans. If they’ve actually managed to make it all work, then this thing can just vanish off of sensors like it isn’t even there.”

“And they’ve packed a  _ ridiculous _ amount of firepower onto it,” added Dustin. “Enough to go toe-to-toe with ships twice its size. They’ve designed themselves a stealth destroyer.”

There was a heavy pause as everybody contemplated the implications.

“What is the likelihood that they’ve already built this… thing?” Mike asked.

“Hard to say for sure with the information here,” Will said. “But these schematics are too detailed to just be conceptual. And they seem to have a functioning shipyard. So I’d say best case scenario, they’ve already got a prototype under construction. Worst case scenario…” He didn’t have to finish the thought.

Ouvens cleared his throat lightly. “Whatever plans they have in motion, they’re almost sure to be stepping them up as we speak. They know we have this database, they know we’re onto them.”

“Then we’re very short on time to respond to this intel,” El said.

Mike was silent for several seconds, staring at the schematics on the screen with a deep, thoughtful frown. “Can you get me the location of their shipyard?” he asked at last.

“Yeah,” Dustin said. “Easy.”

“Good.” Mike nodded firmly, coming to a decision. “Put the ship on yellow alert. Send an emergency message to Admiral Hopper. Then set a course for that shipyard, maximum warp.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, folks. All that remains is the two-part finale episode. Thank you all for following along, for your kudos and comments. You're the reason that writing this fic has been such a blast.


	25. Unto The Breach, pt 1

Mike and El sat together in silence as the  _ Hawkins _ roared through the space between the stars at high warp. They were in Mike’s quarters, sitting side-by-side on the edge of his bed, El’s arm looped loosely around his, fingers entwined where they were holding hands.

“We’ll be arriving soon,” Mike finally said. “I should be on the bridge when we do.”

“Yeah,” El agreed. “I should too.”

Neither of them moved.

“We’ll get through this,” Mike said. “We’ll get through it and we’ll be all right--”

El shook her head. “No, Mike. You can’t promise that, so don’t say it.” She squeezed his hand. “We don’t know what we’re going to find in that system, and… I think I’m okay with that. If this is where I die, then I have no regrets about how I’ve lived my life up to this point.” She leaned her head against Mike’s shoulder to emphasize the point.

“I don’t think I do either,” Mike sighed. “But it’s not the possibility of dying that I’m really afraid of. It’s… well…”

“Losing me,” El finished. “Or any of the others.”

“Yeah.”

“I agree. Having to live with that would be much harder than dying. But our only way of avoiding it for sure is for us to walk away now, and let the burden of this mission fall on somebody else’s shoulders. And I know you’re the sort of person who wouldn’t be able to live with that, either.” She lifted his hand to her lips and pressed a light kiss to it. “That’s why I fell for you.”

Mike smiled slightly. “Yeah… and I guess I could say the same about you.” He rose to his feet, pulling El along with him. “Come on. We should get ourselves down to the bridge before we talk ourselves out of it again.”

As they crossed to the door, though, he suddenly stopped and turned back around to face El. “Yes?” she asked, looking up into his face.

He frowned, something at war in his expression. “Well, I was just… I mean, as you say, we don’t know what’s going to happen, and… I just kind of feel like I should… no, not  _ should, _ I  _ want _ to… well… I just want to….”

El laughed softly and grabbed his shoulders, lifting herself up to kiss him on the mouth. “I love you too, Mike.”

- - -

“Now entering the Dixon-Stein system,” Kali announced. “Dropping to impulse.”

“Thank you, Ms. Prasad,” Mike said. Everybody was at their station on the bridge, and the mood was tense. Not just on the bridge, either; it was as if the entire ship was a tightly coiled spring, just waiting for the moment when the balance would tip and everything would explode into action. “Ms. Hopper, do we have anything on sensors?”

“Planets, planetoids, and space debris,” El replied. “No artificial structures that I’m picking up, and definitely no tactical targets.”

“About what we expected,” Max commented from the tactical station. “Section 31 isn’t going to get in a straight-up fight with us if they can help it. They’ll be waiting for an opportunity to blindside us and go right for the kill.”

“In other words, we can expect to be flying straight into a trap,” Mike said. He glanced up at Lucas, who was in his usual position beside him.

“Pretty much,” Lucas agreed. “And if you’re expecting to fall into a trap… well, the best move is to forge ahead and spring the trap.”

Mike nodded. “Keep shields at full and weapons powered,” he said. “Continue on our way, Ms. Prasad… easy does it.”

The bridge settled into silence as the  _ Hawkins _ plowed forward into the seemingly-deserted system. Mike stared at the visual display on the main viewscreen as if it would allow him to discern where Section 31 was hiding, even though he knew El would be the first of them to detect any traces of activity. Lucas remained beside him, standing with a manner that would’ve come off as casual if he weren’t holding himself subtly more stiffly than he usually did. He was on edge just like the rest of them. Still, Mike was grateful for his presence. He couldn’t imagine having to do this without his friends at his back.

A sharp, urgent chime from El’s console cut into his thoughts.

“Contact!” El called. “Evasive--!”

Before she could finish, there was a soft rumble and the lights on the bridge flickered and died with a low whine, before humming back up to life.

“What the  _ hell?!” _ Max barked.

“Damage report, Ms. Mayfield!” Mike said.

“No damage,” she said. “But whatever that was  _ completely _ drained our shields. We’re totally exposed.”

Mike hissed an expletive under his breath and activated his comm. “Mr. Byers, our shields are down.”

_ “I know,” _ Will replied.  _ “Some kind of energy-disruption weapon at a guess, I’ve never seen anything like it before. I should be able to get shields back online in about thirty seconds.” _

“That’s a long time in a fight,” Lucas said. “Helm, engage evasive pattern alpha--”

“Contact!” El called again. She sucked in a gasp. “Transport signature. Prepare to repel--!”

Once again, she hadn’t even gotten through the sentence before the bright white light of an incoming transport deposited five humanoid figures in the middle of the bridge. Everything seemed to pause for a breathless moment, during which Mike was able to discern that they were covered from head to toe, dressed entirely in black, faces covered by the reflective visors of some sort of helmets that made them all eerily identical to each other.

Then the moment passed, and the bridge exploded into chaos.

Mike’s breath hitched as he saw one of the boarders go for El, but he didn’t have time to react before he caught a flash of red and yellow out of the corner of his eye, as Max vaulted over her console and hit the boarder with a running tackle that knocked them to the deck. Two more of them advanced on Mike and Lucas, raising phasers; combat training took over, and the two of them rushed their assailants to get inside their reach before they could fire. Mike reached out and grabbed his opponent’s wrist, wrenching it upward as the phaser went off so that the blast went uselessly into the ceiling. Maintaining his grip with the one hand, he went for his opponent’s stomach with the other, hammering in two blows that made them double over with an audible grunt. The boarder’s hand reached for something behind their back; as Mike pressed his attack, he caught a glint of light off of metal, then felt a sharp stinging sensation in his side that quickly turned warm and wet.

_ “Mike!” _ El cried as he went down, clutching the bleeding wound.

- - -

_ “Intruder alert.” _ The computer spoke with dissonant serenity above the shrill whine of a klaxon.  _ “Intruder alert. Intruder alert. Intruder alert.” _

“Welp,” Dustin said, looking up. “That’s it, then--the shit’s officially hit the fan.”

“They’ve  _ boarded  _ us?” Steve asked nervously, twirling his mace in an increasingly complicated pattern. “Do… do you think they’re going to come down  _ here?” _

Robin laid a gentle hand on his arm to stop the twirling before it could become hazardous. “They might, or they might not,” she said. “But if they do, then we’ll be grateful we prepared for it in advance.”

Steve nodded, swallowing heavily.

“Emergency phasers are just down the hall from us,” Dustin said. “I’ll grab them, and then we can figure out setting up a defensive position in here.”

Robin nodded. “Be careful.”

“When am I not? Don’t answer that,” Dustin added quickly. The door whispered open as he walked through and headed down the hallway outside.

Steve gave his mace an experimental two-handed swing, still brimming with nervous energy. “Hey Robin,” he said suddenly. “You know you’re, like, my best friend in the entire galaxy, right?”

Robin raised an eyebrow at him. “Yeah, dingus, that kind of goes without saying.”

“Maybe.” Another swing. “Just kinda feel like I should say it anyway. While I know I still can, y’know?”

She punched him in the bicep, not hard enough to hurt. “Don’t you go talking like that, Steve. I’m not going to let you go that easy.”

“Yeah, just… make sure you stick around too, okay? I don’t know if I can hack it without you having my back.”

“Hey. You’d find a way, don’t sell yourself short.” Her hand moved down to his and clasped it tightly. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to make you try. I don’t want to try and hack it without you, either. So neither of us is allowed to die here, promise?”

“Promise.” 

The quiet was broken by the sound of phaser fire in the hallway.

_ “Shit! Shit! Shiiiiiiiiiiit!”  _ Steve and Robin both snapped to alertness as they heard Dustin screaming outside. The door slid open to admit him, holding a phaser in each hand, firing wildly down the hallway as he backed into the room as quickly as he could without tripping over his own feet. “They’re here,” he announced unnecessarily as the door snapped shut behind him. He smacked the control panel to engage its lock with one hand as he used the other to toss his extra phaser to Robin.

“Can they get through that?” Steve asked, eying the locked door.

Dustin sighed. “Yeah, Harrington, somehow I think the superspies are going to be able to bypass a simple electronic lock. Call it a hunch.”

“Okay, so that gives us… what, a minute to set up?” Robin said, checking her phaser. “What’s our battle plan?”

“Complicated battle plans suck and fall apart almost immediately. So: Harrington, you wait by the door. When they open it, hit them in the face. Then Robin and I will shoot them.”

“I like this plan,” Steve said, taking up a position next to the door.

The next minute or so was one of the longest subjective minutes that any of them had experienced. Steve was pressed against the wall, mace raised and poised to strike; Robin and Dustin had hidden themselves behind some of the bulkier pieces of lab equipment for concealment and cover. The room was dead silent, and just when it started to seem possible that the intruders had passed them by, the door suddenly snapped open.

There was nothing in their visual range in the hallway outside, and for a breathless moment nothing happened. Then, slowly, a visored face peeked around the edge of the door, peering into the room.

Steve’s mace swung and smashed viciously into the visor. The boarder was knocked backwards, crying out in pain; there was a flash of movement as another black-clad figure tried to rush Steve before he could recover from the swing. Robin leaned around her cover and dropped them with a shot from her phaser.

“Come on!” Steve bellowed.

The barrel of a phaser appeared in the doorway and sprayed covering fire into the room as another of the boarders charged at Steve. Gripping the mace at either end like a staff, Steve caught their blow and levered them sideways, sending them tumbling to the ground, then lashed out with a thrusting blow that knocked away the phaser that had been keeping Robin and Dustin pinned behind cover. He stepped back to clear their line of fire, and they filled the doorway with a volley of fire in return, dropping another pair of boarders who had gotten too bold in their attempt to advance.

Steve had turned to face the doorway, and so he didn’t see as the boarder he’d knocked to the ground moments ago regained their balance, turning onto their back and sweeping out a low kick that knocked his feet out from under him, sending him sprawling to the ground, the mace clattering against the deck as it dropped from his hands. By the time Robin and Dustin comprehended what was happening, the boarder had already fallen on top of Steve, and the two were engaged in a fierce wrestling match.

“Shit! Steve!” Robin rose from her position to try and get a shot on Steve’s opponent; even as she did so, another boarder leaned around the edge of the doorway and took a shot at her. She flinched away as much by instinct as anything else, but just slightly too late--she cried out in pain as the beam hit her shoulder.

“Buckley!” Dustin yelled.

_ “Robin!” _ Steve yelled. His opponent took advantage of his momentary distraction to land a vicious punch squarely in his eye, knocking his head back so that it rebounded off the deck. 

“Harrington!” Dustin yelled. “Shit, shit,  _ shit!” _ He let off a few shots at the boarder who’d shot Robin; they went wide, but managed to serve their purpose of forcing them back behind cover. “Okay,” Dustin muttered to himself. “Okay. Desperate times…” He reached up for a panel on the device he was hiding behind, and pressed a button. “Get ‘em, D’Artagnan!”

Everybody in the room froze as a loud  _ skreeeee _ sounded from a recess at the back of the lab. Steve’s opponent stopped and turned, seeming almost dumbfounded, only to see something resembling nothing so much as a fleshy turnip hurtle towards them. The energyvore reached out with its tendrils and snatched them up, hurling them bodily out the door. It launched itself after its quarry, and there was a general ruckus from the hallway, screams and phaser fire filtering through as the door snapped shut once again behind it.

Dustin leaped up from his position and sprinted over to Steve. “Harrington. Hey, Harrington. Steve. You okay?”

Steve seemed mildly stunned, though not on account of his injuries. “Was that  _ Dart?!” _

“Yeah.” Dustin grinned. “I figured he wouldn’t be happy about a bunch of strangers breaking into his home. Seems like I was right.”

“Yeah, no shit.” Steve groaned and put a hand to his head as Dustin helped him up to a sitting position, then gasped. “Robin--!”

“Here,” Robin said, voice thick with weariness and pain as she pulled herself into view. The shot, though it had been a glancing blow, had left a nasty patch of charred, bloody skin on her shoulder. “I’m okay, but it hurts like hell. Bastards had their phasers set to kill.”

“I feel a lot less bad for siccing Dart on them, then,” Dustin said as he went to retrieve a medkit.

“Yeah, no, I’m fine with it,” Steve said. “Let somebody else get knocked around for a change.” He groaned again, touching the back of his head tenderly. “Ugh, that’s probably going to be a concussion right there. Gonna have to have Doc Ouvens look at it once we’ve all gotten through this.”

“I imagine sickbay will be  _ very _ busy once this is over,” Dustin said darkly, returning with the medkit. He handed Robin a tube of burn gel which she began to apply gingerly to her shoulder, wincing and drawing a breath in through her teeth; then he approached Steve with a hypospray in hand. “Here,” he said. “This will help keep you on your feet for a little while, at least.” He pressed it up to Steve’s neck, and it hissed as it injected its contents.

“Oof,” mumbled Steve. “Oh man, I already feel better. Does this mean we’re gearing up for round two?”

“Unfortunately,” Dustin said, slinging the medback around his torso and checking his phaser. “Let’s go see who needs our help. I’m sure we’re not the only ones fighting right now.”

- - -

The Section 31 strike team prowled down the hallway in a cluster of five, phasers at the ready. Resistance so far had been minimal, but they had been trained to be on their guard at all times. Besides, another strike team had sent a frantic message about some sort of alien life-form attacking them before losing contact, so clearly the crew of this starship had a few tricks up their sleeve, soft as they were otherwise.

_ “Clear,” _ the lead operative said through their helmet’s comm, performing a visual sweep of the hallway in front of them.  _ “Proceeding to the next section.” _

Laughter echoed through the hallway, light and childlike and so carefree as to loop all the way around to being eerie.

Immediately, the entire strike team snapped to attention.  _ “What was that?” _ one of them asked.

The laughter echoed again, louder this time.  _ “Section 31, come out and plaayyy~” _ a childish voice called in a singsong.  _ “Section 31, come out and plaaaaaayyyyyy~” _

Phasers rose to firing positions.  _ “Show yourself!” _ the lead operative demanded.

_ “What are you talking about?” _ the voice giggled.  _ “I’m riiiiiight here. Can’t you see me?” _

_ “It’s a trick,” _ one of the other operatives said.  _ “Stay steady. They’re trying to spook us.” _

_ “Spook you?!” _ the voice said.  _ “Oh, goodness, no! I would never mean to spook you--” _ A door snapped loudly open and shut further down the hallway, making the entire strike team jump, and the voice broke out into a peal of laughter.

_ “How the hell are they doing this?” _ one of the operatives asked, looking up.  _ “Is this some kind of program?” _

_ “No, it’s too smart to be a program,” _ another one said.  _ “There’s got to be somebody hidden nearby who’s messing with the ship’s systems.” _

_ “In here!” _ a third one called. The strike team swiveled in the direction of the voice; there was a door standing open on their right.

_ “Hold!” _ the lead operative said.  _ “Don’t--” _ They were too late in speaking; two of the operatives had rushed through the door after the voice, and it slammed shut behind them, locking with a smart  _ ding _ and another mocking peal of laughter.

_ “Shit!” _ one of the operatives said, rushing to the door.  _ “I think we can get this open--” _

_ “No time. Leave them,” _ the lead operative said.  _ “Fall in and advance. You can’t scare us like this, whoever you are.” _

_ “Hmm, you’re right,” _ mused the voice.  _ “It really needs more… ambience, doesn’t it?” _ As it spoke, the lights started to flicker erratically overhead, sending their surroundings into a series of stuttering images.

_ “More juvenile tricks,” _ the lead operative spat.

_ “Oho,” _ said the voice.  _ “Tell me, then, is this a trick?” _ A faint, monstrous roar echoed from the far end of the hallway.

_ “Obviously.” _

_ “Um, sir,” _ one of the other operatives said.  _ “Wasn’t Delta Team saying something about a hostile life-form before they went dark?”  _ The roar sounded again, distinctly louder and closer this time.

_ “That… must have been a trick too,” _ the lead operative said, but the hesitation in their voice was obvious. The roar sounded again, louder still and accompanied by the  _ thump, thump, thump _ of heavy footsteps.  _ “Still… we should make for the target as quickly as possible. Double time!” _

The remaining three operatives hustled down the hall through the strobing illumination, pursued by the ever-closer sounds of the unknown lifeform.  _ “Turbolift ahead!” _ one of them called. They piled in, and one crouched to hook a device up to the control panel.  _ “Make it snappy with that override,” _ the lead operative said with a wary look down the hall from which they’d come.

_ “Oh, there’s no need for that,” _ the voice said cheerfully.  _ “Going down!” _

_ “Wait--!” _ the lead operative said, suddenly realizing their error, but the door was already sliding shut. The turbolift rattled and began to descend at a speed that was distinctly faster than the recommended safe limit, enough to lift their feet just slightly off the floor. The operatives, trained and battle-hardened agents of Section 31 all, screamed in unison as they plummeted into the depths of the ship.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of free-fall, the turbolift lurched to a halt, dashing the operatives to the floor in a heap. The door opened with a saucy  _ ding, _ and the lead operative looked up to see a multitude of phaser barrels trained on them.

“Hi,” Will said, standing at the head of a group of distinctly pissed-looking engineers. “You’re on  _ my _ fucking ship. Welcome to engineering.”

The interior of the turbolift lit up as the trio of operatives was showered with stun blasts.

“All right,” Will said, cocking his gun arm back. “Get their weapons, and… I don’t know, shove them in an equipment locker or something. Just make sure they can’t make any more trouble.” A trio of engineers moved to obey the order. “Thanks for the assist there, Athaclena.”

_ “My pleasure!” _ Athaclena said cheerfully.  _ “There’s a whole bunch of those jerks all over the ship. They’re like ants, or something.” _

“It makes me unaccountably nervous to hear you comparing humanoids to ants,” Will said, lifting an eyebrow. “...but that’s something for us to discuss later. What’s the situation look like on the rest of the ship?”

_ “Overall, it could be worse. The crew seems to be holding their own, by and large. I’m helping out where I can.” _ Athaclena let out a happy, doglike  _ woof. _ _ “Oh, and I have Lieutenant Henderson and those two ensigns of his doing medic runs to patch up the wounded.” _

“Good call,” Will said. “Is there any damage to the ship that we need to address right away?”

_ “They’ve made a couple attempts at sabotage. Mostly I’ve managed to head them off. I can give you a list of the affected systems, if you’d like.” _

“Send it to K’eit, please,” Will said, gesturing to one of his engineers. A chirp from the Vulcan’s datapad indicated that Athaclena had obliged. “What’s the situation up on the bridge? Is everybody okay up there?”

_ “Hang on, let me check,” _ Athaclena said. There was a pause.  _ “Oh. Oh… oh no.” _

“‘Oh no’? What’s ‘oh no’?” Will’s voice took on a frantic edge. “Athaclena, what’s going on up there?!”

- - -

Mike’s awareness had shrunk in around his own body, everything beyond that turning into a chaotic blur of motion and noise. Blood lay hot and wet on the hand he had clutched to his side, pain from the wound stabbing into him with a throbbing intensity that was only getting worse. Somebody was calling his name, over and over again, over the noise of the ongoing fight. Maybe more than one somebody.

There was movement above him, and he squinted, forcing himself to think through the pain. Two figures were locked in a scuffle, one a red-and-black outline--Lucas--and the other the unbroken black of the boarders who’d invaded the bridge. Reawakening to the situation he was in, Mike lashed out with one foot, connecting with the boarder’s shin. The kick was weak, and aimed at an awkward angle, but it was distracting enough to make the boarder look down, giving Lucas an opening to drive his knee into their stomach. They stumbled and fell backwards, winded, and Lucas dove forward on top of them, pinning them to the deck. Mike caught another flash of movement as Max moved to help him restrain them.

Somebody was kneeling next to him.

“Mike,” El said in a half-whisper. She had a couple of fresh scrapes and bruises on her face, and her eyes were glistening with the beginning of tears.

“Hey,” he said hoarsely, reaching up in an attempt to wipe them away. “None of that. I’m okay.”

She batted his hand away, giving a look that somehow mixed anguish and exasperation. “You’ve been  _ stabbed, _ Mike.”

“Oh.” He looked down at his other hand, which had been stained nearly entirely red. “Right.”

“Oh shit.” Lucas’s voice came from Mike’s other side; apparently he’d finished subduing the boarder. “Stay with me here, Mike.”

“Yeah… yeah, I’m here.” Mike forced himself up into a half-sitting position, drawing immediate sounds of protest from both El and Lucas--not to mention a fresh wave of pain from his wound. The frenzy of activity that had consumed the bridge moments ago had died down to a weary stillness. “What’s the situation? Are we okay?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“We’re okay up here,” Lucas answered. “It sounds like there’s more boarders elsewhere in the ship, though. We’re working on getting our defense coordinated.”

“We can handle it, Mike,” El said. “Let’s get you down to sickbay--”

“No,” Mike said immediately. “Medkit.”

_ “Mike--” _

“It’s okay, El. It’s bleeding a lot, but it’s shallow. Not something that requires immediate attention.” He was ninety percent sure he was right about that. Maybe eighty-five. “If we can get some biofoam on it, I can make it through to the end of this fight.”

“Yeah, don’t even try getting into an argument with Mike when his crew’s in danger. You won’t win.” Max had appeared above him, a can of biofoam spray in her hand; Mike could see that she’d applied some of it to a cut above her eyebrow, streaks of blood still visible where she’d wiped away a trickle that had run down the side of her face. She stooped and began applying the biofoam to Mike’s side, and he groaned in relief as the contact anesthetics began to numb the pain.

“Thanks,” he grunted. “Help me into my chair.” Trading a look that made it clear that they’d rather not, but knew better than to press the point, El and Lucas inserted themselves beneath each of Mike’s armpits and lifted, easing him up and back into the captain’s chair. “Okay,” he said, letting out a breath. “Status report.”

With one final look at him--as if to reassure herself that he wasn’t going to drop dead the moment she turned her back--El nodded and returned to her station at the ops console. “I’ve got… ten transport signatures total, depositing boarding parties in various areas of the ship. Of those, four are reported neutralized, and the remaining six are encountering substantial resistance.” She let out a sigh of relief. “It looks like the fight’s swinging our way. There’ve been some casualties, and light damage to some of the ship’s systems, but medic and engineering teams are already on their way to deal with them. Athaclena’s been helping with the defense and damage control,” she added, a note of pride entering her voice.

“Damn.” Mike laughed, instantly regretting it as his wound twinged again. “I’m going to have to give that thing a commendation.”

_ “Saying ‘thank you’ will suffice,” _ Athaclena said, making everybody jump slightly.  _ “How are things up here? Commander Byers asked me to check.” _

“We managed to fend off the strike team that transported into the bridge,” Mike answered. “Situation’s under control, everything’s fine.”

“Except where the part where the captain got stabbed,” Lucas said, giving him a look.

_ “Oh,” _ Athaclena said.  _ “Oh… oh no.” _

“It’s  _ fine, _ Athaclena,” Mike said, glaring at Lucas. “I’ve gotten first aid, I’ll be able to--”

_ “Byers to bridge! What the hell’s going on up there?! Is everybody okay?!” _

_ “I might have said that last bit out loud,”  _ Athaclena admitted sheepishly.

With a deep sigh, Mike tapped his comm. “Wheeler here,” he said. “Will, everything’s fine up here. We’re all alive and… more or less intact.”

“Mike got stabbed,” El added, drawing another glare from him.

On the other end of the comm, Will was silent for a moment.  _ “He’s refusing to go to sickbay, isn’t he?” _ he said at last.

“Yep,” Lucas confirmed.

_ “Damn it, Mike--” _

“I’m  _ fine,” _ Mike snapped. “Look, I know you’re all worried about me, but this fight isn’t over yet. We don’t know what Section 31 is going to throw at us next, and I for one intend to stay at my station until we’ve gotten through this.”

As if in response to his statement, a sharp chirp came from El’s console. “Contact,” she announced, voice suddenly tense. “Something just showed up in the rings of the seventh planet. Definitely a starship of some kind. If I had to guess…”

“...it’s Section 31’s stealth destroyer,” Mike finished, stomach sinking. “Will, please tell me that we’ve got shields back.”

_ “We do,” _ Will affirmed.  _ “Uh, Mike--” _

“Not now,” Mike said. “Keep the shields up and weapons hot.” He flipped over the comm channel to an open frequency. “This is Michael Wheeler, captain of the  _ USS Hawkins,” _ he announced. “Brenner, can you hear me? Are you there? Your game is up. There’s a whole Starfleet taskforce coming in behind us. Give it up, and there doesn’t have to be any more violence today.”

A blast of static came back in response, so overwhelmingly loud that the entire bridge flinched under the aural assault.

“What the  _ hell--?” _ Max said.

_ “ _ ** _The one you call Brenner is no longer here._ ** _ ” _ The voice that spoke over the comm was distorted, inhuman, and Mike wasn’t sure if he thought it was a single massive voice or countless hundreds of voices speaking in near-perfect unison.  _ “ _ ** _He now belongs to me. As you all will soon belong to me. As your universe will soon belong to me. You are weak and insignificant, Michael Wheeler. Submit to me. Submit._ ** _ ” _

Everybody sat in stunned silence as the comm cut out.

_ “It’s here,” _ Will breathed.  _ “The shadow. He’s let it through, the stupid, arrogant mother--” _

Another sharp chime came from El’s console. “I’ve lost sensors on the destroyer!” she called. “It’s engaged its stealth systems!”

“Evasive maneuvers!” Mike ordered. “Prepare to engage!”

TO BE CONTINUED

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are at the beginning of the end. I've already got roughly a third of part 2 written, so I can promise you that it's going to be a doozy.
> 
> See you all in a week, and as always, thank you for your kudos and comments :)


	26. Unto The Breach, pt 2

The  _ Hawkins  _ rattled as weapons fire impacted against its shields. “Damage report!” Mike called.

“Glancing hit,” Max reported from the tactical station. “Shields are holding at…” She sucked in a breath through her teeth. “...seventy-eight percent.”

Mike actually turned around in his seat to look at her in disbelief. “I thought you said it was a  _ glancing _ hit!”

“It  _ was!”  _ Max said. “I don’t have an exact count on how many phaser banks this thing has, but it’s got to be a  _ ridiculous _ amount. I know the destroyer’s smaller than us, captain, but… I think we’re outgunned here.”

Mike swallowed heavily as he turned back to face forward. “Step up those evasive maneuvers, Ms. Prasad. Change patterns every thirty seconds.”

“Yes, sir,” Kali said, working the helm console with intense focus.

“Hold on,” Max said. “That energy disruptor that hit us before--they’ve stopped targeting us. They’re firing; I think they’re going after the destroyer--!” Her jubilant tone cut off as her console shrieked an alert at her. Nobody had to ask what had just happened.

“Ms. Hopper,” Mike said, looking at El.  _ “Please _ tell me you’ve got something.  _ Anything.” _

“I’m trying everything I can think of, captain,” El replied. Her fingers were flying over her console so fast they almost seemed to blur. “But it’s not using conventional cloaking technology. Tachyon pulses, subspace echoes… nothing’s working. It’s as good as invisible.”

“Great,” Lucas growled from beside Mike. “We’re fighting an invisible starship,  _ and _ it’s apparently carrying superior firepower. What do we do now?”

“We keep dodging,” Mike said. “And we think as fast as we can.” The ship shuddered again.

“Right,” Lucas said. “Let’s get some more brainpower on the task, then.” He tapped his combadge. “Will, Dustin. We’re up against a wall here. You’ve seen the schematics for this thing--can you think of any tricks to get a lock on it? Long shots, million-to-one chances, anything goes here.”

_ “Shit, that’s a tough one, Lucas,” _ Dustin answered.  _ “This thing was designed from the ground up to avoid detection in just about every imaginable way.” _

_ “Yeah, I’m going to have to second Dustin,” _ Will said.  _ “If we had some time to work on the problem--” _

Another impact rattled the ship violently. “Shields at forty-two percent!” Max called.

“Time is the one thing we  _ don’t _ have right now,” Lucas said.

_ “Wait,” _ Will said suddenly.  _ “Wait, wait, wait. I don’t know how to get a lock on it, but I  _ ** _can_ ** _ get it off our backs long enough to buy us a little more time.” _

“I’ll take it,” Mike said. “Shoot.”

_ “Okay. So one of the systems it uses for stealth is a series of heat sinks, right? They collect and hold the heat generated by the ship’s operation, to prevent it from radiating off into space, where it’d be detectable. Ordinarily the heat buildup’s not a huge problem as long as they’re smart about managing it, but it means that they can’t handle a high-heat environment. So if we move in close to the system’s star, I’m talking practically right in its corona…” _

“It won’t be able to follow us in without overheating,” Mike finished. “Well, I  _ did _ ask for desperate measures…”

“Wouldn’t it just be able to hang back and target us from a distance?” Lucas asked.

_ “No,” _ Dustin jumped in.  _ “Not if we go into low-power mode. The solar radiation will mask our ship’s signature, at least enough that it shouldn’t be able to get a lock on us.” _

“Right,” Mike said. “But we’d also have… maybe twenty minutes at best before the ambient heat started roasting us alive.”

_ “I said I could buy us a  _ ** _little_ ** _ more time, Mike,” _ Will said.

“Fair enough,” Mike conceded. “Ms. Prasad?”

“I heard,” Kali replied. “Ready to lay in a course on your say-so, captain.”

“Do it.”

- - -

Mike wiped a sheen of sweat from his forehead; even with the shields and life support protecting them, the temperature inside the  _ Hawkins _ had begun to climb into the uncomfortably warm range. “Okay,” he said. “We bought ourselves a few minutes, but the moment we emerge from the corona, that thing’s going to get a lock on us and start attacking again. We need to come up with a solution before that happens. Brainstorm, people.”

“What if we set the phasers to a maximum spread and fired in a full-coverage pattern?” Kali asked, turning around in her seat. “We wouldn’t necessarily have to target it that way.”

“No.” Max shook her head. “I mean, you’re right, we’d hit it eventually, but with the firepower they’re packing, they’ll blow us out of the sky before we even scratch its shields firing blind. It’s a losing proposition.”

“So we need to be able to lock on to even stand a chance against it,” Lucas said. “Will, Dustin, have you had any more brilliant ideas?”

_ “We’re looking at the schematics now,” _ Will replied.  _ “Unfortunately, I’m not finding any flaws that we can exploit. This is one of the best-designed bits of engineering I’ve seen in my life.” _

“Well, we can take comfort in the fact that we’re being killed by a masterwork,” sighed Mike.

“Look,” Max said. “I hate to say this, I really do, but… in a situation this hopeless, it might behoove us to stop thinking about how we can  _ win, _ and start thinking about how we can  _ escape.” _

Mike spun his seat around to look at her. “If we lose this thing now, we might not be able to find it again until it’s too late,” he said. “The shadow would be set loose on an unsuspecting galaxy.”

“Which is exactly the same as what happens if we fight and lose, except for the part where we all die.” Max crossed her arms. “If we can get out of here, then at least we can carry a warning back to Starfleet, and hopefully figure out a way to track down and stop the shadow before it can do too much damage.”

_ “I think I’m gonna back Max up on this,” _ Dustin said.  _ “It might be the best that we can do in this scenario.” _

Mike rested his face in both hands. “What you’re saying… makes sense,” he sighed. “But I still want to end it here if there’s any possible way that we can. So if we can’t come up with a plan to lock on to that ship--”

“We’re thinking about this all wrong,” El said.

Everybody turned towards her. She’d been sitting quietly for the entire conversation with a pensive expression on her face; now, though, her eyes gleamed with determination. “Elaborate?” Mike asked.

“We’re thinking about how we can track the destroyer,” El said. “Which we might not be able to. But the destroyer’s infested by the shadow entity--where one is, so is the other. So what if we track the shadow, instead?”

Everybody exchanged looks. “That… makes sense on the face of it,” Lucas said. “Do you think we can get the sensors to pick up that exotic matter from enough of a distance for that to work?”

El shook her head. “That’s irrelevant,” she said. “We have something more reliable than the sensors. We have me.”

“El,” Mike breathed. “That’s--”

“Dangerous,” she said. “Yes, I know, Mike. This mission has been dangerous from the word go. But this might be our only chance to get out of this alive, to stop this thing before it can destroy an unimaginable number of innocent lives. So  _ don’t _ tell me not to take that chance, not when you’re sitting there still fighting with an open wound in your side.”

Silence. “Even if I ordered you not to,” Mike said, “I’d just end up having to court-martial you when you went ahead and did it anyway, right?”

El smiled slightly. “Right.”

“Well. I did ask for a plan, after all. It’d seem that I got one.” Mike sagged slightly in his chair. “But before we go ahead with this…” He rose, crossing the distance between him and El with a few strides, and bent down over her. She lifted her face up to meet him, and their lips met in a kiss that lingered for several long, desperate seconds. “If there’s any way,” Mike murmured as they broke apart, “any way at all--come back to me. Please.”

“I will,” El answered. “I promise.”

Mike smiled a little as he straightened back up. “Now,” he said. “That  _ was  _ a gross breach of bridge protocol--”

“Was it?” Lucas asked. “I was looking the other way, I didn’t see anything.”

“Me either,” Max said. “Checking the tactical readout, you know.”

“I spaced out for a second,” Kali said.

_ “Don’t look at us, we’re just on comm,” _ Will said.  _ “We have no idea what just happened.” _

- - -

The temperature inside the  _ Hawkins  _ had gotten rather hot. Even El’s Starfleet uniform--which had been designed to be functional and comfortable in a broad range of conditions--had begun to stick to a sheen of sweat on her back, and beads had started to form at her hairline as well. That was all just due to the heat, of course.

The fact that her heartbeat was starting to speed up--that was fear.

“Exiting the corona now,” Kali announced. There was a slight shift of inertia as the  _ Hawkins _ responded to her piloting.

“Anything on scope, Ms. Hopper?” Mike asked.

Though his voice was steady, the question itself had an edge of desperation to it that El could well understand. She glanced down at the sensor readout even though she knew what she was going to see. “No, captain,” she answered. “No sign of the destroyer.” No last-minute lucky break for them; she was going to have to do this the hard way.

Mike sighed. “Do what you have to, then.”

El’s senses opened up, encompassing first the bridge, then the entirety of the  _ Hawkins, _ individual presences pulsing in her awareness with a comforting familiarity, like a cluster of stars. She pushed out further still, feeling the first whispers of strain as she did so. Ordinarily, locating anything in the sea of emptiness beyond the  _ Hawkins’ _ outer hull would’ve required something more to guide her to her target, but she had a feeling that the shadow was going to be a lot easier to find.

She was right.

It came boiling towards them, all arrogance and hatred and rage, clinging to the physical form of the destroyer like a virus infesting the body of its host. El narrowed the scope of her focus, channeling all her awareness towards it, latching onto it even as its psychic presence buffeted hers like a hurricane. As they made contact, it spoke, a single word that rattled her metaphysical self so badly she thought she could feel her bones twinge in sympathy.

** _YOU._ **

_ Me, _ she replied.

Back in the physical realm, her fingers moved. Simultaneously with maintaining a psychic lock on it, she was going to have to use her physical presence to manually input what she was sensing into the  _ Hawkins’ _ systems to give the rest of the crew something they could use to target the destroyer. Next to enduring the raw presence of the shadow, it was by far the trickiest part of the whole operation.

“Positional data acquired,” she heard Max say, though it was distant, almost dreamlike. “I’ve got a targeting solution.”

“Full power to weapons,” Mike said. “We’ve got one free shot before it realizes we can see it, and I want to give it  _ everything _ we have.”

**_You approach, wishing to fight?_** the shadow asked. **_You cannot win._**

_ You don’t remember the last time we encountered each other, do you? _ El felt something warm and wet on her upper lip--blood had begun to ooze from her nose.  _ Of course you don’t. We obliterated that piece of you, completely. _

The shadow let out the psychic equivalent of a snarl. **_Fighting a fragment of me,_** it replied, **_and fighting ALL of me… are very different things, little meat-thing._**

“Fire!” Mike called.

The  _ Hawkins _ opened up with a full spread, phasers and photon torpedoes tearing through the destroyer’s shields and impacting its hull. The shadow let out a massive scream of pain and fury that buffeted against El, and she physically rocked back in her seat, crying out.

“El!” Mike called.

Blood had begun to drip off her lip, leaving a copper taste in her mouth and splattering on the front of her uniform. El forced herself back forward, back into position at her console, back into the psychic grapple with the shadow.  _ Did that hurt? _ she asked, trying to play up her cockiness and cloak the weariness that was beginning to throb around the edges of her awareness.

** _YOU. WILL. PAY._ **

_ You need to tap into the mind of somebody more creative, _ she replied.  _ Learn something besides cliches. _ She sensed the shadow-destroyer jink and swerve, and her fingers flew over her console in sync, updating the positional data for the  _ Hawkins. _

“Target’s moving. Beginning strafing run,” Max said.

“Hit the stealth systems if you can,” Mike said. “If we can stop it from disappearing on us, that’ll tip the scales our way considerably.”

El groaned softly, suppressing it so that it was too quiet for the others to hear. The blood was trickling from her nose in rivulets now, and she propped her elbows on her console to keep herself from slumping forward. She had to hold on. Everything depended on her holding on until they could strike a decisive blow.

**_Weak,_** the shadow said. **_Foolish. You are but one speck in the void. I contain multitudes, bent to a single will. You are alone. You will fail alone, and you will die alone._**

Alone. The word filtered through El’s consciousness, striking a spark of hope as it passed, and she smiled through the blood that was coating her lips. Within her extended senses, she turned her attention to the  _ Hawkins. _

Mike’s presence leaped out first, nearby and familiar. She felt a thrill of surprise and recognition from him as she grasped onto him. Lucas was nearby as well, and she grasped onto him as well. Then came Max, Kali, and the rest of the bridge; and then the hundreds of souls aboard the  _ Hawkins, _ Dustin and Will and Steve and Robin and the scores of others that she had known and worked with in her time aboard. Some paused in their work as each, to a greater or lesser degree, sensed her presence reaching out to them.

The combined astral presences of the  _ Hawkins’ _ crew spread out behind her like a glittering cape, with Mike, Lucas, Max, Dustin, and Will forming the closest rank at her back. She was still taking the brunt of the shadow’s psychic assault--she wasn’t about to subject the people she loved to that--but they clung to her like hands supporting her, holding her up and giving her a nearly inexhaustible well of strength to draw from.

“Not,” she gasped, the words escaping her physical mouth as she spoke them in the astral realm as well. “Not… alone.”

Behind her, a chime from Max’s console. “That hit did it!” Max cried, nearly cheering. “We’ve got a target signature!”

“Lock on and hit them with  _ everything!” _ El could feel Mike’s psychic presence curling protectively around her as he spoke. “Now, now,  _ now!” _

The shadow screamed again as white-hot blossoms of pain stabbed into it, and El laughed aloud as it buffeted her one last time, finally releasing her psychic deathgrip on its presence and allowing herself to fall, spiralling with a rushing sense of vertigo until she was completely back in her body--

Mike was already by her side, arms around her, holding her so that she didn’t fall out of her chair. “Hey,” he whispered.

“Hey yourself,” she replied, giving him a bleary smile. “The destroyer…?”

“Dead in the water,” he answered. “We can rig up something to wipe out the shadow once and for all, but we’ve got time while it’s trapped.” His lips tightened, relief only partially chasing the worry out of his expression. “You look awful.”

“I  _ feel _ awful,” El admitted. “But I’ll recover. The important thing--”

The shrill chime of an alert cut through her consciousness like a white-hot knife, disorienting her. Moments later, a massive impact sent the bridge around her spiraling into a whirl of complete chaos, and then darkness rose to swallow her consciousness whole.

- - -

Mike came to his senses lying on the deck, El still in his arms. Breathlessly, he checked her status--she was unconscious, but still breathing. The soft pulse of an alert repeated insistently, over and over, and the overhead lights had gone out, replaced by the dim red of emergency lighting. “Report!” he called, gently setting El’s unconscious form aside so he could sit up. “Somebody get me a status--what the hell just happened?!”

There was a groan from the tactical station; Max was regaining her senses as well. “Something hit us,” she said. “Really hard. The destroyer should’ve been dead--”

Mike’s jaw clenched. “El’s down,” he said. “I need ops. Can anybody--?”

“I can.” Kali extracted herself from where she’d been lying at the foot of the helm console, crossing over to the ops console and leaning over to look at it. “The destroyer is…” Her eyes flicked over a series of readings. “...just barely active. Looks like it put everything it had into weapons to deliver that last hit to us.”

“And our status?”

“Uh… multiple hull breaches,” Kali answered. “All contained by emergency forcefields. Shields are down, weapons are dead, engine’s inactive… we’ve got the bare minimum of emergency life support, captain, and that’s it.”

“Shit,” Mike swore. He tapped his combadge. “Will, it’s Mike. Can you hear me? Are you okay?”

_ “...feel like somebody stuck me in a can and shook it,” _ Will replied.  _ “Have you gotten a read on the damage?” _

“It’s bad,” Mike said. “I need you all to prioritize restoring impulse and--”

Another emergency chime rang out. “The destroyer’s diverting its power for another shot,” Kali announced, voice tense. “We’ve got about… thirty seconds before it has enough power to fire.”

“If we take another hit like that, it’ll completely obliterate us,” Max said.

Mike swallowed. “Will?”

_ “Thirty seconds… I’m sorry, Mike. I’m not that good.” _

“I suppose not.” Mike closed his eyes and sighed. “Thank you. Thank you all… for everything.” Behind him, he heard Max and Lucas murmuring to each other--he could guess what they were saying. He reached over and pulled El up, hugging her to him. “I love you,” he whispered to her. “I wouldn’t trade the time we had together for anything.”

He tightened his embrace and counted the seconds until death.

Another high-pitched chime rang out from the ops console, making his eyes snap open. “What was that?!”

“I--” Kali’s fingers flew over the console. “Something… something just hit the destroyer! Somebody’s shooting at it! I don’t…”

The crackle of an incoming comm floated through the bridge.  _ “USS  _ Hawkins,” a familiar voice said.  _ “This is Admiral Hopper commanding the USS  _ Whittaker,  _ at the head of Strike Group Gamma. Can you hear me? What’s your status?” _

Disbelieving silence hung over the bridge for a long moment, and then Mike passed El over to Kali, all but launching himself at the captain’s chair. “This is Captain Wheeler,” he said, hitting the comm. “We copy, admiral. We’re pretty badly battered, but we’re alive.”

_ “Good to hear,” _ Hopper replied.  _ “Sorry we showed up late.” _

Mike laughed, and it was just the first of many relieved laughs that rang out around the bridge. “If you ask me, sir,” he replied, “you showed up at  _ exactly _ the right time.”

- - -

“So there’s a couple ways we can go with this,” Doctor Ouvens said. He had Mike laid out flat on an operating bed; they were making temporary use of the  _ Whittaker _ ’s sickbay while the  _ Hawkins _ was in the process of getting patched up enough to make the journey home. “If you want me to seal it up like it never happened, that’s doable. On the other hand, if you’d rather that I leave a scar…”

“Why on earth would I want it to leave a scar?” Mike said, frowning up at him.

“To accompany the story, of course,” Ouvens said. “Just think of it: you’re telling an enraptured crowd at a party about the time you got stabbed in a boarding action, and as the final touch, you lift your shirt to show them the scar. Drives everybody nuts, I tell you. The  _ panache _ of it all.”

“...I’d rather not have the scar, thank you.” Mike bit his tongue; he didn’t want to laugh while Ouvens was operating on his abdomen.

“Hm, suit yourself. I suppose you’re not particularly concerned with impressing potential romantic prospects, Captain Head-Over-Heels.” Ouvens set to work with an instrument that gave off a quiet buzz. “You were lucky with this, you know. The actual cut was pretty shallow. Bleeding aside, there’s only superficial damage beneath the skin.”

“Oh, good,” Mike said. “I mean, I was pretty sure that was the case, but…”

Ouvens stopped working to give him a long, pained look. “Are you telling me that you remained at your post for that entire fight with an injury that you were only ‘pretty sure’ was superficial?”

Mike could only give him a vaguely apologetic look in response.

“You’re going to be the death of me, captain,” Ouvens sighed. “As the ship’s doctor, I would like to formally lodge a protest regarding your reckless disregard of your physical well-being.”

“Protest noted,” Mike said, settling his head back and closing his eyes.

The buzzing returned as Ouvens went back to work on the injury. “You know,” he said. “I’ve said in the past that I think you trust too easily. Even so, I have to admit that I’m touched.”

“Hmm?”

“That you trust me,” Ouvens explained. “At least well enough to do this. That you still lie down and let me operate on you, even knowing everything you’ve learned about me and my past.”

“Well, you’ve yet to betray that trust,” Mike said, cracking an eyelid open to look at him. “Besides, with your… unusual knowledge base, you’re more useful to have around that not.”

Ouvens grinned. “Oooh, pragmatism. I think I’m rubbing off on you, captain.”

_ “...please _ don’t say that.” Mike turned his head to the side; his gaze landed on El, who was lying down a couple beds over. She was still unconscious, a peaceful expression on her face as a monitoring device attached to her forehead.

“She’s going to be all right,” Ouvens said, following his gaze. “From what I can tell, she’s basically experienced the neural equivalent of pulling a muscle. All she needs is some rest.”

“How much?” Mike asked.

Ouvens let out a soft  _ humph. _ “Well, my medical opinion is that she should be on leave from her duties for at least a week. But there’s no chance I’ll actually be able to convince her to do that, I think.”

“I’ll talk to her,” Mike said. “The  _ Hawkins _ is going to be in drydock for a while anyway… and I think the entire crew could use some shore leave. Considering the circumstances, I’m sure Admiral Hopper will agree.”

“I concur,” Ouvens said. “All right, relax, captain. We’re almost done here…”

- - -

The conversation paused as the ready room door chimed and slid open; Mike, Lucas, Max, Dustin, and Will all turned to look at El as she walked in. “Well, hey, look who it is!” Dustin said. “You’re looking a whole lot better, El.”

“Thanks,” El said, smiling.

“That said, I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” Max added. “Aren’t you still supposed to be on leave?”

“I am,” El said. “Don’t look at me like that, Max. Talk to Mike, he’s the one who asked me to come here.”

“I did,” Mike confirmed. “I’m giving El a temporary leave from her leave because I had some business to discuss that directly involved her.” He smiled at her as she took her usual spot at the table amongst the other senior officers. “And now that she’s here, I suppose it makes the most sense to get right to it. El, your performance in the position of the  _ Hawkins’ _ operations officer has been… honestly, even  _ exemplary _ sounds like too weak of a word in light of what you’ve accomplished.”

“Watch,” Lucas added. “Now she’s going to say that she was just doing her duty.”

El, who had been opening her mouth to say exactly that, snapped it shut again and glared at him.

“Well, duty or no,” Mike continued. “The point is, your competence and capability are beyond question. Now, unfortunately, given that the two of us are in an officially sanctioned relationship, Starfleet regulations forbid me from recommending you for a promotion…”

“...fortunately,” Lucas finished, “you have another superior officer who was more than happy to put in the recommendation in Mike’s stead.”

“There was a line, actually,” Max said. “Lucas just got dibs because he’s first officer.”

Mike fished a small metal case out of his pocket and slid it down the table to El. She caught it and opened it up to find a set of rank pips enclosed. “So allow me to be the first to congratulate you,” Mike said, “Lieutenant  _ Commander _ Hopper.”

El pressed a hand to her mouth, flushing with pleasure as the others applauded her. “Thank you, captain… Mike,” she said. “Thank you, everyone.”

“You earned it… commander,” Lucas said, grinning.

“Wait, hold on,” Dustin said, the grin abruptly falling off his face. “Shit, this means that I’m the only lieutenant on the senior staff now!”

“Yep, it sure does,” Will said, waggling his eyebrows at him. “Falling behind there, Dusty. You’d better hurry up and save the ship from an extradimensional monstrosity so that you can get promoted too.”

“Actually, you should probably save it from  _ two,” _ Max said. “You know, to make up for the extradimensional monstrosities you’ve  _ unleashed _ on the ship as well.”

Dustin rolled his eyes. “Captain, permission to stick my tongue out at Commander Mayfield?”

“Granted,” Mike said, and Dustin did so, to general laughter.

“All right, all right,” Mike said, waving his hands to quiet his officers down. “Before we go, there’s one more piece of news that I wanted to share with everybody present. Although we’re still a couple of days from completing repairs on the  _ Hawkins… _ I’ve been given our next assignment.”

Instantly, everybody’s attention was fixed on him.

“It seems that our performance dealing with the shadow entity and Section 31,” Mike continued, “has convinced command that our crew has a talent for thinking on our feet and dealing with unexpected situations. With that in mind… we’ve been reassigned to an ongoing exploration mission.”

The reaction to the news spread through the room slowly, as stunned disbelief transmuted to absolute glee. “Holy shit,” Dustin said.

“Yep,” agreed Mike. “So once repairs are complete, we’ll be headed to the borders of known space… and then going beyond them.”

“This is--” Will began.

_ “--awesome,” _ Max finished, eyes gleaming.

“It most certainly is,” Mike said. “And remember… you earned it, all of you. So my thanks to you all for being the best damn crew I could’ve possibly asked for.” He nodded. “And with that, everybody’s dismissed to go make the most of the rest of their shore leave. El, would you mind staying behind for a bit?”

“Is this official Starfleet business?” El asked once the door had closed behind the last of the others as they departed. “Because if it is, we’re technically not allowed to make out until it’s concluded.”

Mike laughed. “It’s personal,” he said. “Just had something else I wanted to tell you about.” He picked up a datapad that was lying on the table in front of him, and carried it over to her. “Here.”

She accepted it, looking over the contents. “This is…”

“I talked to some people,” Mike said. “Did some legwork, filled out all the forms--which there were a lot of, of course--anyway, the upshot is that I’ve dotted every ‘i’ and crossed every ‘t’, and Athaclena is now legally, officially recognized as a sentient citizen of the Federation, with all of the rights granted therein.”

“Mike…” El looked up, her eyes shining.

He grinned. “I also got it assigned an official berth on the  _ Hawkins. _ I decided to request that one from someone  _ other _ than your father, given his… experiences with Athaclena, the last time he visited the ship.”

“Probably a good call.” El’s eyes remained fixed on Mike’s. “Permission to kiss you, captain? A lot?”

“Granted, enthusiastically--” Mike barely had time to get the words out before El had leaped out of her seat and pressed her mouth to his.

- - -

“Captain on the bridge!” Lucas called as he walked in, closely followed by Mike.

Mike smiled slightly as everybody on the bridge stopped what they were doing and stood at attention. “As you were,” he said. There was a time, once, where he had thought that he would never get used to that. These days… well, it had practically become a little ritual unto itself, oddly comforting in its own way. “How are we looking, Ms. Hopper?” he asked as he settled himself into the captain’s chair, Lucas taking up his usual position beside him.

“Been running checks all morning,” El said. “Everything’s coming back green. We’re in good shape.”

“Excellent,” Mike said. He tilted his head back slightly. “Ms. Mayfield?”

“Tactical’s good, captain,” Max replied. “Weapons and shields are fully operational.”

“Good to hear.” Mike tapped his combadge. “Wheeler to engineering. Everything’s looking good up here, Mr. Byers. My compliments on your repair work.”

_ “Nothing but my best for my ship,” _ Will answered.  _ “Engine’s online, power levels are stable, and the warp drive is on standby. We’re ready to set out at your leisure.” _

“Thank you, Mr. Byers.” Mike switched channels. “Mr. Henderson, is your lab prepared for departure?”

_ “--yeah, right there, thanks, Harrington,” _ Dustin’s voice said.  _ “Yes, captain, we’ve got everything squared away and ready for transit. Try not to die of shock.” _

“I’ll do my best,” Mike deadpanned. “Well, it’s sounding like everything’s ready to go. Helm?”

“Waiting for your say-so, captain,” Kali replied.

Mike nodded. “Take us out, nice and easy.”

The deck rumbled under their feet as the  _ Hawkins’  _ engines engaged, and the ship slid out of the dock, emerging into open space.

“Course heading, captain?” Kali asked.

“How about…” Mike paused for a moment. “Second star to the right, and straight on til morning.”

There was a distinct smile in Kali’s voice as she replied, “Course laid in, sir.”

“Engage!”

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are at last: the conclusion of the adventures of the USS Hawkins and its crew... for the time being, anyway.
> 
> So what comes next? Well, to lead with what I imagine will be sad news for some of you: I'm intending to hop fandoms with my next big multichapter project. Stranger Things holds a special place in my heart, and I still absolutely adore this ensemble of characters... but I've also been writing them continuously for the last seven months, and I need to step away and take a break from them for a little bit so I don't burn out. I'm really excited about my next project--as of posting, I've already started writing the first chapter, despite initially intending to take a break after finishing Stranger Trek--and I hope to see some of you over in the comments section for that one, but if it's not your cup of tea, then I completely understand.
> 
> But to end with happy news: a lot of you have been asking about the possibility for a 'Season 2' of Stranger Trek, and, well... I've already started scribbling down notes for it. I have a workable plot arc, and I have a few ideas for incidental episodes, and long story short I'm pretty sure I can flesh it all out into something on par with 'Season 1'. Barring any unforeseen developments, that'll be coming down the line sometime in the future.
> 
> And one last time, because I can't say it enough: thank you to everybody who read Stranger Trek, and to everyone who stopped to leave kudos and comments. People talk about fic writers putting their work out there for free, and that's certainly true, but getting to meet you all and talk to you and hear about how much you're enjoying my writing is such a rich reward that I feel like I'm getting a perfectly good bargain. I hope to see you all around, and as always feel free to stop by Tumblr and drop me a line at that-guy-writes. See you all on the other side!


End file.
